In The Beginning
by KatanaDoshi
Summary: In the beginning, Owen genuinely disliked David Xanatos. future Fox/Xanatos
1. When They First Meet

In the Beginning

Summary: In the beginning, Owen genuinely disliked David Xanatos.

A/N: Exploring how David Xanatos and Owen got to know each other, prior to episode 1 of the series. This is has been edited, remastered and extended.

There is absolutely no connection between this and the non Owen-centric stories I put out. Xanatos/Fox romance in future chapters.

Spoilers: Vows mostly.

Warnings: possible language

Disclaimer: Gargoyles… _Disney… Buena Vista… Greg Weisman… not me._

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><p>Chapter 1: When They First Meet.<p>

David Xanatos had started working for Halcyon Renard for two reasons. The first, most important on the thirty year old's list of things to do, was for the behind the scenes understanding of how one goes about starting a successful technology based company. The second, slightly less important on his list of things to do, was to get closer to the man's daughter. Janine was young enough that he would have to keep his hands to himself for a time, but he was planning for the future.

He was smart, arrogant and terribly self-centered for the son of a poor Greek fisherman, but he has the intelligence to back up his talk and has somehow scrapped enough money together to become a very successful stock-trader. He earned the respect and loyalty of his fellow employees in a matter of months. Well, most of them.

Owen Burnett was a quiet, reserved, startlingly young man that had somehow wormed his way onto a research team. At first David believed that Owen was a younger, distant cousin of Halcyon's personal assistant (the two had such similar features, besides coloring that David finds any alternative to be highly unlikely) which would explain the younger man's position and why he was so easily trusted by higher ups.

Like they said, it was who you know. So David decided it would be a good idea to know Owen Burnett, but all good things take time.

Myra the receptionist and Belinda a manager in the Human Resources department met in the break room every day at 1:35. Belinda would have been ending her first shift and Myra would be starting hers. Between the two of them they knew everything about everyone; the dirty secrets, the past scandals, the current love lives and even some things that no one should have known. It took David one week and exactly no effort to gain the ladies' trust.

"So, what do you know about Owen?" David handed Myra a cup of coffee and sat opposite the matronly woman. Belinda blinked her large doe eyes at him.

"You mean Mr. Burnett?" her voice was sickly sweet and David sometimes wondered how the woman's husband put up with it. He nodded.

"Quiet boy," Myra blew on her coffee. Belinda nodded and leaned her elbows on the table, bracelets jingling.

"He always seemed shy to me," she pouted and leaned her soda bottle in David's direction. He smiled and popped the top for her.

"Shy?" he prompted. Belinda was easily distracted and looked like her coke was about to absorb all of her attention.

"Hmm? Oh yes. You know, like he doesn't have many friends," she sipped at the fizzing drink and Myra nodded her agreement.

"He's a sweet boy," Myra was the motherly type and David suspected that she'd have said the same thing about him if she were ever asked. "I remember when he was first hired on as an office assistant, he's worked his way up the ladder you know," David hadn't known that. "He always kept to himself. Not in a rude way," Myra rushed, she would hate for someone to think she had anything bad to say about someone else. "He's always polite; says good morning to me every day. He's just doesn't seem to care for being sociable."

"He probably doesn't have anybody special," Belinda said this like it was the worst thing imaginable. David suspected that for her, it would be. "Shame, good looking kid like that, all alone," she shook her head.

"He was only twenty-one when he was promoted to from office work to research, was a bit of scandal really. Lots of nasty rumors started flying around; none of them true of course," now that they were on the subject they probably wouldn't stop until someone had to leave or they ran out of information to share. David settled himself in a comfortable position and waited.

(Line Break)

"Hello, I don't think we've been formally introduced," it took a moment for Owen to realize that the comment was being directed at him and when he did finally look up, David Xanatos was standing there, a large friendly smile dominating his face. If he had expected Owen to return the friendly gesture with a smile of his own, he was greatly mistaken.

"No," Owen returned his attention to his computer and resumed typing. "We haven't."

"I'm David," there was no immediate response which wouldn't have surprised anyone else in the office. "David Xanatos, I work with-"

"Was there something you needed, Mr. Xanatos?" Owen's tone was dry. David reminded himself that Owen was shy and socially awkward and probably weary of other people in the office after his little promotion scandal the previous year. He would have to tread lightly.

"I was told you were the person to come to about information on the-" Owen pulled a manila file out of a drawer full of manila files and handed it to a startled David and went back to typing. The dark haired man opened it and blinked. "Ah, yes that's it exactly, thank you."

Owen was apparently done acknowledging his presence and David decided that a dignified retreat was in order.

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><p>AN: For those of you who don't get it: I fixed present/past tense confusion (a rampant problem in my stories), extended the dialogue, removed unnecessary commas, and replaced whole sentences.


	2. When They First Work Together

A/N: Another remastered chapter. Chapter headings were kept because I'm immature and I still find them funny.

Spoilers: Mostly for Vows, eventually The Pack

Warnings: a bit more snark, a little language later and adult themes MUCH later (Xanatos/Fox for those of you worried I was going somewhere else with that.)

Disclaimer: Gargoyles… _Disney… Buena Vista… Greg Weisman… not me._

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><p>Chapter 2: The First Time They Work Together<p>

"He the most efficient worker in the company," this was said in a low voice and David leaned toward the two women. Myra and Belinda shared a look. "Mr. Renard has said so himself… more than once."

"Really?" David was skeptical. If Owen was riding the coattails of a more experienced relative then there'd be no reason for him to put any outstanding effort into his work. But Myra and Belinda nodded at him seriously.

"He's up to date on _everything_," Belinda said conspiratorially. "He keeps up on all the projects and how they're going, even the ones he's not working on himself," she paused and looked around as though concerned that someone might have been listening. "He knows more about my department than I do."

David thought about how Owen had known what file to pull without being told what David had been looking for. David was only personally involved in one project at that moment; it made sense that he'd only be looking for information about that specifically. His mental image of Owen improved.

"It was going around that after the promotion-"

"That one a lot of people were up in arms about, saying that a new office assistant shouldn't get to be promoted so soon, especially one so young."

"Right. It was going around after that that Burnett was aiming for Vogel's job," the women shared a look, something unsaid passing between them.

"I know the ladies up on _that_ floor would have appreciated the change," Belinda said a bit sharply, her eyebrows raised in a significant fashion. David wondered what else was going unsaid, but decided not to stray from his purpose.

"They don't think that anymore?" he asked carefully. Better to let them think that he was only after the office gossip than digging for specifics. Myra shook her head.

"He's not really the type, is he?" she shrugged.

"'Not the type'?" David frowned while Belinda raised an eyebrow at him. "If he's so good at keeping up with-"

"I only meant that he's not really the ambitious sort," Myra interrupted, waving a carrot stick at him. "And he isn't. The order to promote him came after some big deal with one of the project managers. A lot of people got moved around after he was let go but Owen was the only one promoted and it was a big one too, wasn't it?"

"People said a lot of nasty things back then," Belinda shook her head. "They were just angry, right? But he's the youngest guy on that team and what they were saying, sometimes not even behind his back, can't have helped him fit in, huh?"

"And he doesn't do the office politics thing," Myra paused to bite the carrot she'd been holding since the conversation had started. "You'd think after that, as responsible as he is, he'd be trying to get to the top, but he just won't play those games."

"There was this big thing, a few weeks before you came in, between two office heads. Well no one wants to admit it but Owen is like teacher's pet with those big wigs. Everything on time, everything triple checked and twice confirmed, they probably don't even scratch their own butts when he's at their beck and call," Belinda took a long drink from her soda. "Well these two guys started angling for more power. Mr. Renard was making noise about cutting one of them because it'd be more efficient or some such, I dunno. It split the whole division, everyone took a side even though it was obvious who was gonna get the spot. Not Owen. This would have been his chance to be promoted again as the winner's personal assistant or partner or whatever, but he kept quiet, stuck to his work, didn't make waves…"

"So he doesn't do office politics," David rested his chin on his folded hands, frowning.

"Probably doesn't have the guts for it," Myra made an affronted noise and Belinda raised her hands in surrender. "I just mean, he's so quiet he probably wouldn't know how and he's not making any friends is he? Even if he tried he wouldn't get far."

David doubted that.

(Line Break)

Halcyon Renard had never liked David Xanatos. David suspected that it had a lot to do with the fact that the man's nineteen year old daughter and only child had something of a crush on him, but since David really was waiting for a more appropriate time to return the young woman's affections and since David was qualified for the position, Renard had had little choice but to accept the man's application.

It was with great reluctance that Halcyon allowed David to take over his own research division and with even greater reluctance that he allowed David to hand pick the other members of his team. But take 'Golden-Boy Burnett'? Not without a fight.

"I can name ten men with more experience that aren't busy with their own work and who would be better suited for the job," David smiled serenely. He was a little surprised at the older man's reluctance to lend him the junior researcher, but he suspected that Renard's reluctance stemmed from a loyalty toward his own personal assistant Preston Vogel.

"Certainly there are more qualified men available, but I think the experience would be beneficial for Mr. Burnett."

"What does it matter to you if he benefits from the experience?" Halcyon's eyes narrowed and David gave him a surprised look.

"Of course it matters to me. He's a bright young man and I'd hate to see him stuck in a junior research position when it's obvious he could be doing so much more," Halcyon didn't look convinced and David would have been disappointed if he had been. "Honestly? I've heard nothing but good things about him. He's impressed me with his organizational skills, his work ethic and his reasoning ability. I want him to help me manage the project. It would look good for him to have the experience, later on."

"Are you implying I'd let him go?" Halcyon raised an eyebrow and David smiled.

"Keep holding him back and you might not have a choice."

(Line Break)

If David expected Owen to show any sort of excitement or appreciation for being temporarily promoted to the position of a manager – at twenty-two he would be the youngest in the company's history – he was, again, disappointed. Owen behaved as though this sort of advancement were neither out of the ordinary nor unexpected but managed, somehow, not to seem arrogant. David had picked the rest of his team for their ability to the work he was demanding of them, but as he was still relatively new and didn't necessarily care about how well his underlings got along, he failed to see that some of his choices were going to become problem areas.

"It would be easier to-"

"Easier, perhaps, but efficiency and quality would suffer," David frowned, rounding a corner. Owen was in a staring contest with one of the scientists David had been loaned for the initial stages of the project and the surprisingly large man in a lab coat was clenching his fists. "Please, follow my instructions and-"

"What makes you think you're qualified to tell me how to do _my_ job? Do you have any idea how hard it is to get these components to work in perfect synchronization? Do you know how _long_ it takes?" The man was turning red. If his obvious anger and color changing abilities bothered Owen he didn't show it.

"Yes, I do," Owen calmly pushed his glasses up his nose with his middle finger. Whether this was habit or an insult, David couldn't tell, but the scientist was clearly going to take it as an insult. "Just follow my instructions and there shouldn't be any problem with the time management that you seem so worried about."

"Listen you little-" the bigger man took a threatening step forward and Owen moved not at all.

"Is there a problem here?" David raised his voice so that anyone in the general vicinity would hear. The scientist jerked his head to look at the man that was effectively his boss for the foreseeable future and visibly paled. Owen turned to face him at a more leisurely pace. If he was feeling grateful for being saved from what would have probably turned into a very painful encounter, he hid it well.

"Not at all, Mr. Xanatos," Owen shifted his grip on the files he carried under his arm. "I was simply explaining to Dr. Green why sticking to the time table I've laid out would be more productive than any alternative."

"I see," David clasped his hands behind his back and approached the two. Dr. Green looked progressively more nervous as he approached. "I trust your judgment. Doctor?"

"I- there's no problem," the scientist turned and fled the scene. David waited a moment before turning to Owen. Once he was fully facing the blonde, Owen pulled some papers from a file and started looking them over.

"Initial tests have suggested that it would be better to change the chemical mix from a percentage of-"

"Mr. Burnett?" Owen looked up from the paper and David was struck by just how young the other man was. Almost a full decade younger than himself.

"Yes, sir?" pure professionalism. Suit pressed, tie straight, hair carefully combed, shoulder's back, posture perfect; at an age when most men were still living at home or just starting college, Owen Burnett acted like he'd been working in the business world for years. For a moment David wondered if he was looking at someone with a mild case Asperger's Syndrome. He immediately disregarded the thought as unlikely, though not impossible, if only because he'd seen Owen's work space and it looked more like it belonged to someone with a bad case of OCD than it did someone prone to creative outbursts.

"How is the second team progressing?" Owen blinked and for a brief moment David thought he'd caught the young man off guard and unprepared. He was proven wrong however when Owen replaced the papers he'd been holding and removed a new sheet from the file.

"The reports are due tomorrow sir, but this is accurate up to yesterday."

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><p>AN: I for one think the new version of that conversation is vastly improved. R&R Please.


	3. When They First Share a Meal

A/N: Another improved chapter. While I'd like to claim I got all the mistakes... I didn't so I won't. There are bigger issues with this that I can't change (things I've established and now can't fix because it's affected the flavor of the story and I don't want to change it), so if you like it, bare with me.

Spoilers: Vows and The Pack in the future

Warnings: bit of Ooc, a lot of silliness, future adult situations and language.

Disclaimer: Gargoyles… _Disney… Buena Vista… Greg Weisman… not me._

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><p>Chapter 3: The First Time They Share a Meal<p>

Owen was as efficient as he'd been told. Everything was catalogued and recorded in a cold, calculated detail that would have been frightening if David had ever let himself stop and think about the fact that a twenty-two year old had done it. Owen was also as quiet as he'd been told. The man wouldn't speak, it seemed, unless absolutely necessary but when he did talk it was with a natural self assurance, not the awkward doubt that he'd expected. Owen did seem shy around certain people, though it seemed strictly confined to David and a handful of other office workers. He noticed that Owen didn't approach him and when they did speak the younger man was always the first to walk away; it was the same way with the more boisterous of the office workers.

He would give customary 'good morning' to Myra each and every day but David never saw Owen say anything more personal than that to anyone. Even on breaks and at lunch Owen's manner was distant and professional. David wondered if this stemmed from a childhood of not fitting in or if it was a direct result of his tumultuous promotion.

Owen was reading a book in the corner of the cafeteria, a half eaten salad on the table in front of him, when David decided that it was time he started putting his plan in to action.

"Hello Owen," David sat, uninvited across from the other man. The blonde glanced up at him, saw that David had placed his own lunch on the table and realized that the other man wouldn't be going away.

"Mr. Xanatos," it was as warm a greeting as David could have hoped for. Better than the usual 'sir' in any case.

"David, please," he smiled even though Owen had clearly returned his attention to the book. "We are off the clock, after all," there was no response from behind the hardback. "What are you reading?"

"_Grimus_," came the disinterested response. David focused on the fact that the other man was talking to him, even if he did so reluctantly.

"Salman Rushdie. Excellent author," David waited again but there was no answer. He rested his chin on folded hands and smiled. "I was thinking of going to a little bar I know after work this evening…" he paused significantly. "Perhaps you'd like to join me?"

There was a shift in the atmosphere and Owen very slowly lowered his book. Blue eyes stared out from behind thin rimmed glasses for a very long moment. David was briefly concerned that Owen would continue to look at him like that indefinitely but the moment passed. Owen pushed his glasses up (again with the middle finger, David decided then that it was a habit) and seemed to be preparing himself for something.

"Mr. Xanatos…" Owen broke off pressing his lips together. David realized then that what people had been describing to him as shyness was really just Owen reacting with more hesitation and discomfort than the usual person. Owen paused and started again. "With all due respect, sir…" he cleared his throat and David raised an eyebrow, "I think perhaps… perhaps _I_ am not-"

"Owen," David interrupted gently. The blond looked up from the tomato he'd started staring intently at while he'd been mentally word searching. The dark haired man smiled. "I'm not hitting on you."

Several things happened following that statement that David hadn't expected. First was the fact that instead of turning bright red in embarrassment, Owen blinked at him for several long seconds and instead of stuttering the blonde only tilted his head, looking across the table at him thoughtfully. Finally, Owen's lips turned up at the corner slightly, in a small smirk.

"Of course not, sir," Owen had regained control of his voice and there was no sign that he'd had any problem coming up with a response to Xanatos' offer just a moment before. "Please forgive me for implying-"

"You think that the unintentional implication that I might be gay bothered me?" David interrupted, his voice pleasant and conversational. Owen's lips twitched ever so slightly as though he was trying to restrain a smile.

"I wouldn't know sir," Owen's voice was bland as usual. "Does it?"

David hadn't been expecting that challenge at all, and it took him a moment to come up with a response. Owen redirected his attention to his salad.

"Not at all," David was still casual and friendly with his response. "One's sexuality isn't their only, defining feature. It shouldn't really matter should it?"

"I've never thought so," Owen reopened his book. "But it's good to know you feel that way, sir."

There was nothing in Owen's voice that suggested that his response was anything other than polite and casual but… David unwrapped his sandwich.

"So, the invitation is open…" David took a bite of his sandwich and watched the other man. Owen gave no outward sign that he'd even heard what David had said.

"Thank you sir, but I believe I'll have to decline," Owen performed a complicated maneuver that involved turning the page of his book with one hand while taking another bite of his salad with the other. The effect was rather impressive.

"Girlfriend wouldn't want you out late?" casual tone, just two employees getting to know each other over lunch. Or at least that's what anyone walking by would have thought.

"Girlfriend?" Owen seemed distracted by whatever was on the page in front of him. "No, not really… my area," another bite of salad then a sip of whatever he'd filled his cup with. David paused and carefully returned his attention to his sandwich after a moment.

"No girlfriend then," Owen didn't respond nor did he give any sign that there might be more to his statement than just that. David was trying to find a delicate way to ask if the other man had a boyfriend when Owen somewhat over exaggeratedly looked at his watch and stood.

"If you'll please excuse me sir?" with no further explanation as to his leaving, Owen gathered his empty bowl and book and left. David waited a long moment and, glancing around to ensure no one saw him, pulled Owen's abandoned cup toward him and glanced at the contents.

Water.

Damn.

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><p>AN: I think that added word helps, don't you? I'd have fixed the ending to be less of a copout but it's established and I wasn't sure where else I could take it without affecting future chapters.

R&R as always because I'm a review slut and I get a rush when I read them.


	4. When They First Dance

In the Beginning

A/N: Last of the remastered chapters. You'll have noticed that I changed the genre (Humor/Friendship instead of just Humor to avoid slash confusion), the rating (for the now frequent swearing and future racy bits - Fox/Xanatos, thank you very much) and the summary (again to avoid the slash confusion). I appologize if any of these changes have caused you some sort of inconvenience.

Warnings: Language, furture adult themes, silliness in the extreme and a tiny bit of ooc.

Spoilers: Vows and The Pack in the future.

Disclaimer: Gargoyles… _Disney… Buena Vista… Greg Weisman… not me._

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><p>Chapter 4: The First Time They Dance<p>

It was hideously frustrating how stealthy Owen turned out to be. David went from seeing the young man several times a day to _not at all_. Of course Owen was still coming to work; progress reports and other information vital to the project would turn up on his desk throughout the day, but Owen somehow managed to be anywhere David _wasn't_. David heard the phrase "you just missed him" more times that week than he had in his entire life prior.

Owen was just headed to the labs. Owen was headed back to his desk. Owen was taking an early lunch. Owen was headed home for the evening, if he rushed David could probably catch him at the elevator.

It became obvious fairly quickly that Owen was avoiding him. David consoled himself with the belief that Owen had just been startled by all the friendly attention and wasn't sure how to behave himself. That was fine, the project would reach its conclusion soon enough after which Owen would likely be more comfortable with spending time with him on a strictly social level. In the mean time, there was the party.

Though the party was invitation only and the only people getting invitations are Cyberbiotics employees, everyone knew that it was a publicity stunt. Something that looked good for the company and could get people talking.

Janine wore a red dress that David suspected her father hadn't had the opportunity to approve before she'd arrived that evening. He wondered for a moment why she was there are all when she was much more interested in becoming an actress than she was inheriting her father's company, then realized that she'd probably attended in order to wear the dress and give her father a heart attack. Admirable goals, certainly, but somewhat beneath what David knew to be her true potential.

"Janine," his smile was pleasant and friendly but no more than that. Renard was no doubt watching the exchange from nearby. The fierce redhead returned the smile with one of her own.

"David," her voice was a silky purr. It was hard sometimes to remember that she had only just turned twenty; she certainly didn't act like a typical twenty year old girl. "How is Daddy treating you?"

"About as well as I expected," he's smiled became more playful and Janine laughed softly.

"It's really that bad?"

"Well," David pretended to straighten jacket of his suit. "I wouldn't use the word 'bad'."

"No?" Janine's eyebrows jumped and David detected a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"No, I think a better word would be-" he would have finished but the devil himself approached with Vogel on one side and on the other- David hid a smile behind a glass of champagne. Renard's expression was pinched as he looked his daughter over. The dress stopped just above the young woman's knees, not short enough to be terribly immodest, but short enough to cause her father some distress. The way it clung to her probably wasn't helping.

"Janine," Halcyon pursed his lips at his daughter, but the woman seemed not to notice as she smiled and pressed a light kiss to her father's cheek. The old man seemed to relax slightly. "You remember Mr. Vogel and Mr. Burnett," Vogel took Janine's hand in a brisk handshake while the blond gave Janine a respectful nod and was most certainly not looking in David's direction. The darker man tried very hard not to smirk. "Owen," Halcyon nudged the blond forward none too gently. "Take my daughter for a turn around the dance floor, would you? Xanatos and I need to talk business for a moment."

Owen hesitated long enough that it was beginning to look like a silent refusal, but Janine took his arm with a warm smile and led him away. David watched them go, noting the way Owen's shoulders had tensed and how his walk was stiff. Janine, for her part, was acting like a perfect lady.

"They look good together," Halcyon said suddenly. David looked at the old man and raised an eyebrow but Halcyon had directed his own gaze after the two. "He's intelligent, loyal and honest," traits Halcyon didn't think David had an ounce of in him. It was pointless to argue otherwise so David nodded in agreement.

"Yes, he is… have the met before?" He had been trying for a polite if disinterested smile but was worried it came across as a little arrogant. Halcyon's eyes narrowed at him.

"Once, briefly," he returned to watch the two and David followed his gaze. Janine wasn't dressed for a waltz, but she and Owen were managing beautifully. After all he'd heard and the way Owen had seemed reluctant to be left alone with the attractive young woman, David had expected the blond to be awkward on the dance floor but he neither stumbled nor stepped on Janine's toes. "He also isn't a full decade her senior," Halcyon was glaring at him, which frankly wasn't fair at all. David hadn't so much as touched Janine in a way that could have been construed as anything more than polite and friendly. "You leave my little girl alone, Xanatos. She deserves better."

David didn't have to answer that and Halcyon decided to spend his evening with people he found more savory. It was possible that Janine picked that moment to return from the dance floor but it was more likely that Owen had been watching and upon seeing the company president leave with personal assistant in tow decided to relinquish his hold on the girl.

"What did he say to you?" the redhead didn't sound concerned, but then she never did. He smiled at her, taking a sip of champagne and she huffed with a dramatic eyeroll. "Again? He knows we haven't done anything," she reached out without looking and grabbed Owen by the arm just as the blonde had been trying to slip away. "Stay here, Owen," Janine's voice was sweet and coaxing. Any man would have tripped all over himself to obey that voice. Owen only stiffened and looked mildly put out. "Daddy wouldn't want you to leave me and David _alone_."

That did it. What Halcyon had said about Owen's loyalty was by no means an exaggeration and Owen apparently decided that his evening would be better served acting as Janine's chaperone than following Halcyon and Vogel.

"That was some pretty impressive dancing, Owen," David was trying for casual but Owen still stiffened visibly and directed his gaze to Janine. Not used to social interaction, David reminded himself again and continued as though he hadn't noticed Owen's discomfort. "Have you been formally trained?"

"Owen's an Oxford man," Janine said brightly when it became apparent Owen wouldn't answer for himself. "They probably made him take courses so that he wouldn't embarrass the school at social functions," David raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Oxford? Forgive me for saying so but aren't you a little young to have a degree from a University? Particularly one of that magnitude." Owen drew himself up and gave David a dry look.

"Some exceptions were made concerning my education," the blonde said shortly. David gave him a little smile and so did Janine; if Owen realized he was being cornered, he didn't show it.

"Daddy raved for weeks about how lucky they were to find him," the redhead squeezed Owen's arm in a way that made the blonde shift uncomfortably. "He was furious when he first found out that Owen had been an office assistant for months before anyone noticed him. But then there was an opening in research and Daddy didn't waste any time moving him up."

"Lucky break," David finished the last of the liquid in his glass and exchanged the empty one for two full ones as a server passed. "Owen?" he held out the second flute and waited for the fair-haired man to reluctantly take the glass. Janine would have modestly declined if he'd offered, if only because her father was in the room.

"Did you come alone?" Janine was smiling and David wondered what she was getting at. Owen seemed to be weighing whether or not he should answer her directly or stall with a drink of the champagne. He either didn't like champagne or thought he could get away with a minimal answer.

"Yes," it wasn't much of a response, but it answered the question and was, frankly, more than he would have given David.

"_Really_? I find it hard to believe a man like you would have trouble finding a date," Owen went with the champagne this time and David had to smile at the disconcerted look on the blonde's face. "But you're probably focused on your career right now, aren't you?"

It took about thirty more minutes but Owen clearly wasn't accustomed to drinking much of anything, because after another glass and a half, the blonde's tongue had been loosened considerably.

"I've never found the time to take up dancing," Xanatos was leaning against a table, amused expression on his face. Owen sniffed quietly and pushed his glasses up his nose. "You realize that's a rude gesture," Owen frowned at him and David mimicked the way Owen had been adjusting his glasses.

"I picked it up from a favorite teacher some years ago," it sounded like a well practiced line, but David imagined that he'd had to say it multiple times over the years. "But dancing," Owen squinted at something behind the darker man for a moment before refocusing. David glanced over his shoulder and saw Myra awkwardly trying to navigate the dance floor with a man that couldn't have been more than half her age. "It's surprisingly easy to pick up once you have the basics. I was rather disappointed."

"Speak for yourself," Janine laughed. "I'd have given it up if I could, but Daddy said that it was an important skill for any young person. Then my teacher told me it was a good way to meet boys," she winked at David and he grinned back.

"Well between the two of you, I'm sure you could have me squared away," Owen was either drunker than David had first realized or had decided to be less formal sometime during the evening because he stepped forward and jabbed a finger into David's shoulder.

"As a man you only need concern yourself with posture," Owen frowned and jabbed David's shoulder again. David put his shoulders back rather exaggeratedly and Owen stopped poking him. "And balance," he looked down and stayed that way until Xanatos had his feet centered under his hips. "Also timing but that takes practice," Owen finally stepped back and frowned at the other man. "You wouldn't make a very strong frame, sir."

"What?" David frowned in confusion. Janine laughed; a sweet and melodious sound.

"It's a dancing term," she explained. "A strong frame provides a connection with your partner. He means you wouldn't be very sturdy."

"Well I disagree, I'm very sturdy," he smiled and Janine laughed again. He'd have said something more but Owen chose that moment to grab David's hand and place it against his lower back. Janine dissolved into a fit of giggles while the blonde took David's other hand and held it loosely in his own. They stood like that for a moment before Owen shook his head and let go, stepping back.

"A very poor frame, sir," Owen tilted his head and gave David a look that, had it come from anyone else David would have said was smug. David lifted his chin proudly.

"I didn't realize I was being tested. Perhaps if you would let me lead-"

"I was letting you lead," Owen deadpanned. Janine had steadied herself and was taking a calming sip of water. It would have been perfectly acceptable if Xanatos changed the subject but he felt walking away would be a sign of weakness. Owen didn't seem particularly surprised when David took his hand again and even gamely put his other hand on the taller man's shoulder. Putting his shoulders back, David stepped forward and promptly stomped on Owen's shoe.

"Ah, sorry."

"I find it helps if you indicate to your partner where you'd like for them to go," Owen sounded mildly amused.

"Right, well if you'd just step-"

"Generally, one does this silently."

"If you two keep standing there like that, people are going to talk," Janine had procured Owen's third, unfinished flute of champagne and was grinning at them from behind it. Owen stiffened and pulled away abruptly. David decided then that something very unsavory indeed had been said about the young man and he full intended to find out what that something was.

"Yes, well. Wouldn't want any nasty rumors reaching Mr. Vogel, would we?" David went back to leaning against the table and glanced around. No one seemed to have noticed them, those still in the room were busy with conversation or dance, which was for the best. Owen made a face, only for a second, before schooling his features.

"Mr. Vogel has problems of his own, I doubt he'd be much interested in anything concerning us," Owen pushed his glasses up again and David frowned.

"Oh?"

"Mr. Vogel and the ladies that work in the upper offices don't… get along so well," Janine gave David a significant look and he realized what she, and his two sources, had been implying.

"And Renard keeps him on?" As honor bound as the old man was, it seemed unlikely he'd tolerate that behavior from any of his employees, least of all one so high up.

"Mr. Renard doesn't know," Owen frowned; he clearly disapproved of Vogel's behavior.

"No one wants to tattle on Daddy's favorite," Janine pursed her lips, clearly unhappy with the situation as well and the champagne flute was quickly emptied.

Later, once Xanatos was alone in his apartment, he mentally filed away the new information. Mr. Vogel and Owen were not likely to be on good terms if Owen disapproved of Vogel's practices. It didn't bode well for familial favors but… if Vogel still wanted a connection with young Mr. Burnett, despite the rather glaring barriers, it was possible he'd sell his soul to get it.

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><p>AN: You'll notice that the biggest change here is dialogue and a few rephrased sentences all done for clarification and character establishment. R&R please (especially if you're new).


	5. The First Date

A/N: Not Dead Just Sleeping. I will not apologize for the pause but I will explain it. I wrote myself into a corner (if you squint you'll probably see it), then I lost my notes, then some Life happened, then I had writer's block and then I wrote myself into ANOTHER corner. The biggest problem is that this is the chapter that transitions from David-centric to Owen-centric and since Owen is (what I'm calling) Half-A-Person with no real personality on his own... that's really really hard to write.

Keep the story summary in mind while reading this. And AGAIN, Xanatos/Fox romance, no slash.

Spoiler: Itty bitty for Vows. If you didn't see it you wouldn't recognize and if you did... you might still miss it.

Warning: Snark, oh so much of it and not in a friendly way. Language (one word, but an offending one).

Disclaimer: Don't own it. But if I did...

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><p>Chapter 5: The First Date<p>

It was perhaps more than a little unfair of him to expect Owen to be available twenty-four/seven, but surely expecting him to be at work, during work hours, when he was needed was not asking too much. On a Friday evening, when Owen knew that the project was reaching its climactic (but hopefully not explosive) end, the blond man was nowhere to be found. David did what he could not to seem troubled by this, but he couldn't stop himself from wondering where the man had wandered off too.

"You have a message," Myra was giving him a look, eyebrows raised. David stopped and turned to the woman, who was, he realized after a minute, holding out a folded piece of paper.

"Ah, thank you, who-" She quirked an eyebrow at him briefly before turning and walking away. Wondering what his message might have done to put him on bad terms with the older woman, David glanced down at the note.

_Aureole, 7:00pm. Reservation R._

_Fox_

David blinked then glanced at his watch. As far as odd requests, this one didn't even make the top twenty list, but he had to wonder at the wisdom of meeting Janine in a well known romantic dining establishment. Well, it would be rude not to see what she wanted.

(Line Break)

David wasn't wearing a suit, which he suspected annoyed the maitre'd immensely, but his typical work clothes were close enough to formal that they couldn't openly frown at him.

"Ah yes, Renard," the man's smile went from being forced to warm and inviting. Halcyon's name was powerful indeed. "Right this way sir, the rest of your party is waiting."

The odd phrasing should have tipped him off that all was not what it seemed, but David was too busy wondering what Janine had planned to give it much thought. That changed as the table came into sight. Owen and Janine were seated across from one another, a candle between them, at a table that had been tucked into a corner to give the illusion of privacy. Between that and Janine's long blue dress and Owen's nicer than usual jacket and tie, David could gather that he was not walking in on a friendly meal. The whole scene should have given the impression romance and probably would have if it weren't for the fact that Owen and Janine were silently staring at each other as though neither of them knew exactly what they were doing there.

"David!" Janine's expression brightened dramatically at the sight of him and Owen's relaxed. The blond stood.

"Sir, please –" Owen started to move away, gesturing at his chair.

"Daddy is expecting _you_ to take me home, Owen," Janine said pointedly. Owen dropped back into his seat, a look of resignation briefly flashing across his face, before it returned to his typical bland expression. A third chair was quickly added to the table and David was presented with a menu.

"So," David settled into the chair and gestured at the other two. Owen pressed his lips together and Janine giggled behind a delicate hand.

"Daddy made the reservation," that much had been obvious. "He thinks Owen and I should… get to know each other better."

_Oh_. Judging by the stiffness of his shoulders and the pinched look on his face, Owen didn't agree with Renard.

"I see," he paused before smiling brightly as though this situation was perfectly normal. "So, Owen, I missed you today at the office."

"Mr. Renard insisted that I take the afternoon off," if he didn't know any better, David would have said that the other man sounded petulant. As it was, he decided to take the tone to mean that Owen was annoyed at being made unavailable for work. The blond turned a mildly concerned look (that is to say, his brow was slightly furrowed) toward David. "I hope, sir, that my unavailability-"

"No no no," David decided to take this moment to reassure the younger man about his position and worth. It would, in the end, work to endear himself to the blond. Or at least that was the plan. "You were certainly missed," exactly one person also involved with the project had asked after Owen and that person had more specifically wanted something that Owen would be better at finding "but we managed to squeak by without you. Let's try not to make this a habit," David smiled. "I don't think we could survive without you for very long."

"What are you working on?" Janine asked when all Owen did in response was to give David an appraising look. That was apparently a more pleasant topic of conversation for the blond because Owen launched into a detailed explanation of what they were working on.

David sat back and watched Owen coolly go over the work they were doing and the complications that had arose during the project. It was a little… odd. Almost mechanical, Owen made few gestures and the ones he did were for indicating size or a specific motion. He didn't get excited or more animated as he went, but nor did he slowly run down. His voice was all but monotone and it was… _creepy_. David interjected, unnecessarily, to add another voice to the explanation. Janine wasn't one to let an awkward moment or two ruin her evening and found a new topic to entertain them with fairly quickly.

This time it was Owen's turn to sit back and watch, though his expression was still carefully neutral and if he hadn't been at the table with them, eyes switching between the two of them as they spoke, David would have been given the impression of someone sitting in a waiting room. Thankfully, food arrived and talking became sparse.

It seemed to David that everything Owen did was mechanical. From the way his fork moved from plate to mouth, to the way his hand lifted and set down his water glass, everything seemed to be done on automatic but with a sort of controlled precision… Janine cleared her throat and David realized he'd been staring at the other man from over the top of his wine glass and probably had been for some time. With a grateful smile in Janine's direction, David drained the glass and leaned forward.

"You know, Owen, it occurs to me that I don't know much about you," David said pleasantly. Owen froze, fork half way to his mouth.

"That's right," Janine continued for him when Owen didn't move for a long moment. "Come now, Owen, Daddy's told me about your work background and schooling but I don't know much else about you," she smiled fetchingly and Owen set his fork down.

"I'm not sure what you'd like to know," Owen said slowly.

"You could start with where you're from," David piped up agreeably. Stony blue eyes shifted to him. "To be honest, I am having trouble placing your accent."

To be completely honest, David was having trouble placing Owen's accent, racial background, sexual inclinations, taste in fashion (off the rack suits absolutely didn't count as a preference) and a whole host of other things but it would be rude to start grilling the young man point blank.

"Boston," Owen said flatly. David raised his eyebrows at him when it became obvious he wasn't going to volunteer further information without prompting. Sighing, Owen pushed his glasses up his nose. It looked a lot like a stall for time. When there were no more interruptions Owen calmly folded his hands and began speaking. "I grew up in Boston with frequent trips to England during my early years," Owen hesitated, though he didn't seem to be judging their reactions. Rather, it looked like he was trying to find what to say next. After a long moment he continued. "When I was sixteen arrangements were made for me to attend Oxford on a trial basis. When I completed my time there I came to work for Mr. Renard."

"Extraordinary," David said mildly. Extraordinary bullshit, that was. Owen looked at him sharply, as though he'd caught David's thought. "You have relatives in England?"

"Quite a few," Owen's stare was absolutely penetrating. David didn't flinch or squirm.

"I didn't know Oxford took students on trial like that," David smiled. Janine was looking at him oddly, but knew well enough not to interrupt. Owen met the other man's gaze and held it.

"As I said," the younger man pronounced deliberately, David's carefully neutral smile twitched into a smirk, "some exceptions were made in regards to my education."

"That's fascinating, I'd love to hear more about it," David leaned back in his seat, but didn't break eye contact. Neither did Owen.

"I would hate to take over the conversation like that," Owen returned evenly.

"Not at all; we're curious."

"To be honest, sir-"

"David," he corrected automatically. "We're off the clock."

""Sir," Owen repeated and continued as though he hadn't been interrupted. David's eyes narrowed. "I'm rather curious about you as well. How did you get your start? What brought you to America?"

"One very old coin and a desire to learn business, respectively," David forced himself to smile pleasantly while Owen's own eyes narrowed in his direction. Janine was nearly as good at reading people as David was and had not missed the tension.

"Is Daddy teaching you anything useful, David?" she intervened smoothly just when David thought he was going to end up doing something regrettable. He turned a genuine smile toward her, feeling Owen's own stare bore into the side of his head for a few moments longer. "Or is he just bullying you?"

(Line Break)

Owen had been made to pick Janine up and was also responsible for returning her safely into the hands of her father. He paused as the three stood to leave, looking pointedly at David's wine glass.

"Should you be driving sir?" he asked mildly. He was back to being indifferent then. David supposed it was better than… whatever it was that he'd been before.

"I'll be fine," he said dismissively. He'd had two and a half glasses, spread out over a very filling meal and wasn't feeling anything that might suggest even slight inebriation. Owen frowned slightly at him, but it could have been over the comment or the fact that David had taken it upon himself to help Janine replace her wrap.

"Owen," Janine stepped away from David and put a delicate hand on Owen's arm. David knew from experience that the combination of contact and that particular beseeching look would make most men melt. Owen tensed up but didn't pull away. "David's apartment isn't far from the house," Owen raised an eyebrow at that and David imagined that the blonde was filing away the fact that Janine knew where David lived for future reference. "Do you think that maybe you could…?"

Owen didn't immediately agree or fill in the rest of the sentence for her, both rarities. Janine moved closer to him, expression hopeful and well intentioned. Owen looked away from her, but he was neither red in the face nor did he look conflicted. No, he was looking at Xanatos. David raised his eyebrows questioningly and smiled.

"Certainly," Owen's response, when it finally came, was flat but Janine thanked him as though he had jumped at the chance to be helpful.

The car was not, as David had first suspected it would be, company issue. But the plain, black, four-seater certainly matched David's image of the man behind the wheel. It was clean, to the point that it looked completely unused and still had traces of the new-car smell.

"Interesting ride, Owen," David commented from the backseat. Janine had, none too graciously, claimed the front when they'd gotten to the vehicle. "Is it new?"

"I've had it for seven months," Owen answered in a tone that made it clear he didn't much want to continue. Another oddity, then. David turned his attention to the redhead and proceeded to ensure the young woman was kept properly entertained during the ride.

(Line Break)

"You'd better stay here; who knows how many cameras he has trained on the driveway," Janine was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

"Of course. He'll never know I'm here; scout's honor," David said solemnly, which didn't help. She playfully slapped his arm as Owen opened her door.

"_Thank you_, Owen," she held out a hand and another appeared to help her out of the car. "It's good to know that there are still some gentlemen in the world."

David sat back, grinning as Owen walked Janine to her door. Despite the moment or two at the restaurant it had turned out to be a very pleasant evening over all.

Owen returned to the car and pulled a handkerchief from the glove box.

"The fair maiden's kiss leaves evidence, does it?" David quipped. Owen didn't answer, but that might have been more due to the shock of watching David clamor ungracefully into the front passenger seat than any real desire to be silent. David smiled at the surprised blonde as he pulled the seatbelt across his chest. "Missed a bit."

Owen roughly scrubbed the handkerchief over his cheek again before starting up the engine.

"A lovely evening," David said, to fill the silence and give him an excuse to examine the blonde. He even drove mechanically. "Thank you for letting me barge in on your date."

"Not at all, sir," Owen didn't so much as glance in his direction. "You certainly livened things up," he paused as he carefully navigated the New York traffic and managed to turn. "And it wasn't a date."

"Oh? It looked like one," David knew that from Janine's perspective it hadn't been a date but he was certain that Renard would have made it clear to Owen that it was meant to be.

"Then you were mistaken," Owen responded coolly. David sat back; it sounded as though Owen were done speaking to him. "It's hardly a secret, after all," David looked back somewhat startled. It seemed that the extended pause was just that; only a pause.

"What's hardly a secret?" he asked cautiously. He didn't like where the conversation looked to be going.

"Your intended relationship with Janine Renard," Owen said simply. David opened his mouth but Owen, for once, seemed to be in the mood to chat. "Mr. Renard is certainly well aware of it and discrete though you've been, you and Ms. Renard have certain telling behaviors."

There was a long pause in which Owen continued his calm, masterful driving and David stared at the other man, feeling cold. There was no sense of dread, after all there was no evidence for Owen to use against him as he and Janine had done nothing but…

"Janine and I aren't in a relationship," he said shortly. For a brief moment Owen's lips quirked up in a small smirk.

"Yet," came the simple counter. David narrowed his eyes at the other man.

"Who else knows?"

"Mr. Vogel, Mr. Renard and myself, of course," Owen gently applied the brakes and turned to look at him, face blank. "Is something wrong sir?" David forced his own face into a more friendly expression.

"Not at all, Owen," he watched as Owen put the car into park and frowned a moment before realizing, with a start, that Owen had brought him right to his apartment building without needing to ask direction or even which building was his. "You knew my address?"

"It is in your records, sir," the doorman had recognized him and was waiting expectantly for David to get out of the car. "Shall I call the restaurant and arrange for them to return your car, sir?" David smiled pleasantly.

"No need Owen," he swung his door open and climbed out. "I took a cab."

The look on the blonde's face made the evening's ups and downs absolutely worth it.

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><p>AN: Please R&R. It was a review that got me back to working on this you know. Also, I lost all my notes so now you've got every opportunity to give suggestions that I might actually use.


	6. Author's Note

In the Beginning

A/N: You may have realized from the Chapter Title or the rather dismal collection of sentences below that this is not, in fact, chapter 6. I have changed the summary, genres and rating of this story for the convenience of all you readers out there and any new ones that may show up. I also went back and edited/expanded all the chapters previous to chapter 5 to improve the characterization, dialogue and plot; to correct research errors and (most of all) to fix my grammar and punctuation. Any remaining mistakes were, I'm afraid, completely beyond me to detect or improve upon. I also finally wrote down the story outline which had only existed in unconnected fragments in my head previously, so updates should be - if not regular- consistant in tone and style and there will be far fewer in the way of filler chapters.

This was all entirely necessary because while perfectly lovely and absolutely flattering in all your reviews, constructively critical of my work you lot are not. In the future please do not hesitate to let me know if my past/present/future tense is slipping (I write one shots using all three, it gets confusing) or if I've gotten something horribly wrong (Fox's eye color as a random, non-specific example). I promise not to run into a Corner of Woe and never update again. In fact, I'll likely thank you and see if I consider the mistake important enough to fix. Even if it's not, I'll be far more careful about not making it in the future.

Come on guys, let a girl know when her substandard writing is more substandard than usual.

And now for the CHAPTER PREVIEW (I wasn't going to make you read that mess up there without rewarding you with a little something.)

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><p>Chapter 6(ish)<p>

_It was like being followed by a ghost, David mused the week following the rather infamous Date. _

_"Do you have a problem, Mr. Burnett?" _

_"Not at all sir. Do you?"_

_"I don't think he likes you," Belinda said sweetly when David walked into the break room. _

_"Of course Mr. Renard hates me. He thinks I'm morally bankrupt," David fetched a cup of coffee for himself._

_He trusted Owen to behave as the mature individual that he'd shown himself to be._

_"How long have you known Owen?" _

_"Why?"_

_"I think he's got a little school boy crush on you."_

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><p>AN: I don't think I could have made that any more misleading and ultimately unrevealing unless I had copied something from a completely different story. Have fun with that.


	7. A Vengeful Ghost

In the Beginning

A/N: So I mentioned in my note that there would be fewer (if any) filler chapters. That having been said, the next two or three chapters are a set up for a plot point and by themselves should not be taken in any way seriously or be considered plot affecting in any ways. And again, not saying Owen is or isn't gay - he's not gay for Xanatos in this particular story.

There is absolutely no connection between this and the non Owen-centric stories I put out. Xanatos/Fox romance in future chapters.

Spoilers: Vows mostly.

Warnings: possible language

Disclaimer: Gargoyles… _Disney… Buena Vista… Greg Weisman… not me._

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><p>Chapter 6(Like for realz this time): Like a Ghost<p>

It was like being followed by a ghost, David mused the week following the rather infamous Date. Papers disappeared off his desk to be replaced by new ones, everyone he needed to talk to already knew what it was he needed to tell them and there was the sense that someone was hovering just out of view, constantly following.

He did catch Owen, so to speak, more than once that week, but the blonde might have been on the other side of the planet for all the good it did him. Speaking only the bare minimum required of him, Owen didn't even look at David when he spoke and it was far enough along in the project that this sort of personal issue could cause a problem with the efficiency of their work.

"Owen," the blonde did not look up from his typing but did hold up a manila file. David took it. "Thank you. I need to speak with you for a moment."

There must have been something in David's voice that made it clear that this was important because Owen not only stopped what he was doing but turned in his chair to look up at the other man.

"Yes sir?" David wasn't sure how a single, monotone syllable could be made to sound like a synonym for jackass, but Owen somehow managed it. It was a rare thing when David showed that something was bothering him but he could not stop the frown that spread across his face. Owen didn't flinch at the change of expression on his superior's face.

"Do you have a problem, Mr. Burnett?" David asked shortly. It was the first time he'd called the blonde by anything other than his first name in weeks and if the significance of that occurred to the other man at all, he didn't show it.

"Not at all sir," Owen slowly, deliberately, pushed up his glasses. David narrowed his eyes as the blonde returned his gaze with an intense one of his own. "Do you?"

It was a challenge that couldn't have been made more obvious if he'd yelled at the top of his lungs. Anyone walking by might have wondered why David was tensed as he stared down at the passive blonde but Xanatos knew better.

He'd made it his business to figure out how Owen Burnett functioned. He knew, from months of study, what the tilt of Owen's mouth, the barest quirk of a blonde eyebrow, or just the set of his shoulders might mean and right now it meant war. David smiled very slowly, very dangerously. Owen tilted his chin up at him.

"No," he said slowly. "I was just worried there might have been some sort of misunderstanding between us."

"No sir," again, he made it sound like something distasteful. David didn't flinch. "I think we understand each other perfectly."

"Good!" David said brightly and clapped Owen on the shoulder harder than strictly necessary. The blonde did not shift an inch, nor did it look like the physical contact had bothered him in the least. It made David feel very petty. "I trust the presentation for the meeting with Vogel and Renard is ready?"

"I was just looking over the newest report from Dr. Stephens for that very reason," Owen gestured to his computer screen. "Would you care to look it over?"

"Not necessary," David turned away. "I trust your judgment."

(Line Break)

"I don't think he likes you," Belinda said sweetly when David walked into the break room. He gave her a surprised look and realized with a small sting of guilt that he hadn't spoken to her or the other woman staring at him from the table in nearly two weeks. David forced a smile to his face.

"Of course Mr. Renard hates me. He thinks I'm morally bankrupt," David fetched a cup of coffee for himself and another for Myra after noting that she didn't have one in front of her.

"Mr. Renard doesn't hate you," the older woman said almost soothingly as she took the Styrofoam cup from him. David sat next to her.

"Mr. Renard doesn't waste energy on hating people. Besides, I wasn't talking about him," Belinda let David open her soda before continuing. "I meant Mr. Burnett."

"You don't think he likes me?" David gave her a surprised, mildly hurt look. Myra suddenly found her steamed vegetables very interesting.

"Well he's been hiding from you," she said pointedly. "And I've never seen him hide from anybody before."

That was interesting. Apparently Owen hadn't been as stealthy in his avoidance as David had first thought.

"I don't think Owen is like that Bee," Myra said suddenly, frowning at the other woman. Belinda raised her hands defensively with a jingling of many bracelets. David realized that he'd missed the two women. Myra turned to him. "Owen is shy," she said soothingly. "And you've been very nice to him, giving him this new temporary position and paying attention to him as a person instead of just a go-for…"

"Sure," Belinda snorted. "Maybe all this extra attention has got the poor kid in a tizzy. Might even have a crush on you."

That started an argument that David wisely decided to stay out of, but got him thinking. Was it possible… No. Not likely. Owen had turned down his invitation for drinks after work, supposedly on the grounds that he'd thought David had been asking him out and his current behavior certainly didn't point toward any crushes but…

Janine. David sat back in thought as Myra rebuked the younger woman for her crass words.

Owen seemed very uncomfortable around Janine, far more so than he was with Belinda and Myra. Granted he didn't react to her playful and seductive act like most men but then, most men weren't looking to her father for their next pay check. Now that he was looking back at The Date and before that the company party David realized that Owen had always angled himself to be facing the young woman, had been more inclined to do as she said than what he apparently wanted.

David's eyes narrowed. It was possible, even likely, that Owen had a crush on the young redhead. The realization that Xanatos was cautiously courting the young woman for the future would not have gone over well with the insecure blonde. It would explain how the dinner had taken such a sour turn. It would explain his current behavior.

This, David concluded, was a serious problem. He was quite fond of Janine and was certain he would become more so once they were able to see each other without the overbearing presence of her father to worry about. He was also certain that Owen would make an excellent ally in the future, whether his plan to use the young man to get at Vogel worked or not. He needed either to steer Owen away from the redhead or to make himself seem like less of a threat to Owen's manhood or self-esteem or whatever it was Owen was looking at him as a threat to.

There weren't many attractive young women working for the company, were there? A handful of secretaries, perhaps, but even the extraordinarily beautiful ones were required to play down their looks and dress blandly. David rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip. They weren't terribly smart either; he thought back to The Date when Owen had explained the project to Janine and how the young woman had comprehended well enough to ask intelligent questions and even make a suggestion or two.

It was possible that Owen had only turned to Janine because she was the only attractive, intelligent female of his age group that he'd met since coming to New York.

David frowned as that thought reminded him of Owen's little tale of going to Oxford at sixteen. The whole thing smacked of lies and falsified documents but until he had a chance to check for himself… David pushed the matter to the side. It wasn't an immediate concern and might turn out to be something as minor as Owen trying to himself seem more important than he actually was.

In the meantime there was work to be done.

Since neither of them had actually said anything that would require an apology, David was not particularly surprised when none was forth coming and in no way felt a need to complicate matters by commenting on their, for lack of better words, confrontation himself. So he left it alone and trusted Owen to behave as the mature individual that he'd shown himself to be.

When David's briefcase inexplicably disappeared with all his work still in it and reappeared - according to the maintenance personnel - on top of one of the elevator cars, he reconsidered. He wasn't sure how Owen could have done it, as there was testimony from several technicians that the blonde had been in the lab overseeing the final steps of the project about the same time that David had noticed the briefcase missing and was accountable for several hours prior to that, but David certainly hadn't put it there.

A thumb tack found its way, pointed side up, into David's seat at lunch the next day. Owen watched him jump and swear with a raised eyebrow from a table away. David had met the blonde's gaze and suspected that he was being laughed at. But there was no proof and since David was certain that he was not in the wrong - if they were rivals over Janine, it was Owen's own fault for not acting sooner - he kept quiet.

His pen exploded in a spray of black ink as he tucked it into his jacket pocket on his way to a meeting. Across the hall Owen gave him a look of mild distaste and continued on his way. This, David realized as he stared down at his flat tire, was serious.

Other than ordering Janine to go out on another date with Owen and to do her best to dissuade the young man from his passive aggressive attacks, David wasn't sure what he could do to improve the situation other than avoid the younger man like the plague. As this was not a valid solution to the problem, David pushed it out of his mind. When he discovered his day-planner had somehow been doused in the industrial strength glue that was commonly used in the building for various on-the-spot repairs and was both un-openable and immoveable from his desk he was struck with sudden inspiration.

(Line Break)

"_Should you be calling me at the house?"_ Janine asked, more curious than reprimanding. David smiled.

"Is your father there?"

"_No, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have the phones tapped."_

"Yes, but he couldn't say anything about it without revealing the tap, could he?" David asked cheerfully. On the other end of the line Janine chuckled softly.

"_That's my David, always ahead of the game."_

"How long have you known Owen?" He decided against easing into the question for time reasons. There was a pause.

"_I met him at a company gathering a bit before Daddy hired you, why?"_

"I think he's got a little school boy crush on you," Janine didn't like beating around the bush anymore than he did.

"_Oh? I can't say I'm surprised."_

"Modest aren't you? Thing is, I need him to like me."

"_And he doesn't because of me."_ No one could ever say she was slow on the uptake.

"That's right. I also think he's dead set on you because he hasn't met anyone else."

"_Oh, now that's flattering…"_

"So what I need from you – do you have a pen ready? – Is a list of your single female friends and a handful of nonthreatening, gay and committed male ones."

"…_Alright…"_ the sound of a pen scratching paper stopped.

"Then we'll need a very good excuse to introduce-"

"_What you mean is that you want me to arrange for a friendly get together here so that Daddy doesn't find out my friends and I spent an evening at your place even if Owen was there as pseudo chaperone."_

"..." David blinked. "No, that wasn't the plan at all but your idea is much better. Thank you."

"_You're welcome. Out of curiosity, why the men?"_

"On the off chance that he's not as set on women as he thinks," which, David thought to himself, was highly unlikely. "And so that the situation is more casual than just dropping him in a room full of single women."

"_Ok then."_

"It's not as urgent but we'll also need to arrange for a few… smaller get togethers. Double dates, if you will, because I doubt Owen would take the initiative to call a number, even if he got one."

"_Any specific qualities I should be looking for in my guests?" _David smiled at the business-like tone.

"The women should probably be your height and shorter, similar build, attractive and – I cannot stress this enough – intelligent. I don't think Owen would have much patience for airheads."

"_That narrows the field considerably. Since this group is going to be padded anyways, I hope you won't mind if I add a few airheads to the list. You'd be surprised how much a man will forgive if there's a sizeable bust to distract him."_

"I'm sure I would," David laughed. "As for the men…" David hadn't given enough thought to this, he realized suddenly. What did gay men look for in each other? Janine sighed in his ear.

"_How's this? I'll invite two of my more camp friends and a few of the more masculine ones all of varying physical appearance. They've all been to or are still in college so Owen won't be able to complain that the boys are all dull and dumb."_

"Brilliant. I knew I called the right person."

"_I'm the only person you know with a big enough social sphere for your little scheme to work," _Janine countered_. "I'll start on this and call you when I've got everything squared. I have to go."_

"Thank you, dear."

"_Now don't you start that," _the click and sudden buzzing of a deadline were the next things he heard, but David couldn't complain. Things were looking up.

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><p>AN: Before you smack the review button in a blind rage, remember what I said about this being a set up and not taking anything in this or the folloing chapters particularly personally. Have you thought about it? Still in a blind rage? Type away my friend, I can't wait to hear what you've got to say.


	8. Of Plots and Plans

In the Beginning

Summary: In the beginning, Owen genuinely disliked David Xanatos.

A/N: Oh God. I just realized that I am writing a story that must, canonically, be taking place at a time shortly before I was born (10 years before the events of FMtM is between 1987-89). Oh crap. What… how do I fact check any of what I'm doing? Right up until this point I was writing from an early 90's perspective and that's wrong. By like a lot. So I researched what I could (pagers) and bs'd what I couldn't (social norms).

A kind reviewer has pointed out that the word blond/blonde has male/female connotations. Didn't know that (in fact I had a science teacher some many many years ago insist that it didn't make a difference either way- to a blonde student no less). Well, I don't care enough to go back and fix it, but I will endeavor not to do it again.

Disclaimer: _The Gargoyle Franchise belongs to grander people than I. Mostly Greg and Disney._

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><p>Chapter 7: Of Plots and Plans<p>

"I think you're right," David told Belinda the morning of the big presentation. Owen had pulled his disappearing act again and wasn't answering any of David's pages though he'd had another member of their work team try it and Owen's return call had been almost instantaneous. Belinda raised her eyebrows at him. "Owen doesn't like me."

"No, that can't be right," Myra walked in and David wouldn't have been surprised to find that the older woman had a sixth sense telling her when someone was talking bad behind someone else's back. "He's just shy."

"He's avoiding me," David said pointedly. Belinda humphed beside him.

"So that's what he was doing in the supply closet. Thought it was weird that he was in there."

"He was in the supply closet?" David asked incredulously. He'd expected better of the young man than such childish behavior. Myra paused in filling her coffee mug.

"He said he was looking for a stapler or something. With the door closed?" Belinda raised her eyebrows at David. "I told him to get out of that closet before I told Mr. Vogel that I caught him slacking off," she leaned toward him and lowered her voice significantly. "I wouldn't have, he's a good kid but I'll tell you… Good thing we know he was just hiding from you again because I thought he was in there… you know."

"Bee!" Myra stormed toward the table, sloshing hot coffee as she went. "You watch your mouth. What if someone had heard you? That's just as bad as spreading rumors. You know damn well he wasn't in there doing anything like that!" David sat back in shock. It was the strongest language he'd ever heard from Myra but he supposed the mama bear attitude fit. "And what are you two doing in here idly gossiping anyway? You both get to work before _I_ tell Mr. Renard how you spend his time. Go!"

David didn't need any more prompting than that. He sprang from his chair and all but ran from the room while Belinda helped clean up spilled coffee and tried to defend herself from the other woman's tirade.

(Line Break)

The presentation went without a hitch. David didn't think Owen would do something as childish as not show up, put pornographic pictures in the slides or draw genitalia on any of the charts, but still, it was a relief to be done with it without something going wrong.

Morally bankrupt though he may be, David had to be given credit for putting together the team and overseeing the work which nearly gave Renard a fit of apoplexy. David left with a massive smile on his face.

"Well done, Owen," David said brightly. He reached out but the blond side-stepped before David could pat him on the back as he'd intended.

"Thank you sir," there was nothing particularly wrong with how Owen said sir today, but the other man was avoiding eye contact. "If you'll please excuse-"

"Owen!" both men turned to watch a tall redhead in a short skirt walk toward them. "Hello David," she was almost dismissive of him but a little smile told the darker man that something else was up. Janine leaned forward and gave Owen one of those strange air-kisses where she pressed their cheeks together and kissed the air by his ear. Owen stiffened but didn't pull away.

"Ms. Renard," came the somewhat wooden response. Janine smiled brilliantly at him.

"Janine, please. Ms. Renard is my mother," ah, right. Anastasia had run off to do some adventuring elsewhere in the world. "Anyways, I'm so glad I caught you both."

"Here to see your father?" David asked when Owen didn't immediately reply.

"That's right. His secretary told me he was up here, but this is more important. Owen," she turned back to the blond, taking his hands. This, Owen was very much not a fan of it seemed and he initially tried to take them back from her. Janine held strong and Owen went still. "I'm having a little gathering…"Janine leaned toward the blond giving him a hopeful look and a little flutter of the eyelashes that David personally thought was taking it too far. "I was hoping that you would come," Owen opened his mouth, clearly about to refuse. "Oh, David you just have to come too. You can tell us all about your project."

Janine hadn't gotten around to calling him with the details and this was not how he'd planned for this to go, but it was too late to turn tail now. David smiled.

"I'm not sure how interested your friends would be in what we do, Janine."

"Oh stop," she released one of Owen's hands to gesture. "It'll be fun. Cody and Tiffany are engineering majors, they'll love it," she turned a pout on Owen. "And I already said you would come. You will won't you?"

Owen hesitated, but David was sure that if anyone else had done this, Owen would have already said no and left.

"When should we show up?" David asked the instant Owen opened his mouth. The blue eyes flicked briefly in his direction.

"My house, Friday at six," Janine smiled at him for a moment before turning back to Owen who was looking defeated. "You won't be late?" the blond hesitated.

"…Of course not," he said finally. Janine kissed him on the cheek, though it didn't look like anything more than enthusiastic and friendly. Apparently to reinforce the impression she turned and gave David a similar peck, though it might have lingered longer.

"I have to go find Daddy, but I'll see you both Friday," Janine was practically grinning as she turned and left. David smiled at her back for a long moment before looking to Owen.

The blond had produced a handkerchief from somewhere and was carefully rubbing lip-gloss off his cheek. He noticed David's look and held the cloth out to him.

"Thank you," David repeated the other man's actions and returned the white square. Owen didn't dignify that with a response, tucking his handkerchief into a pocket and walking away. David sighed.

(Line Break)

"I thought you were going to call," David wasn't particularly surprised to see Janine in his office but it did raise questions. He left the door open for propriety.

"I was, but I never got a chance and I really did need to see Daddy," Janine shook her head when he raised his eyebrows at her. "Not about that."

"Good," David sat behind his desk and folded his hands. "So what can I do for you, Janine?"

"Four single girls, one couple, two taken men, one camp, and two subtly gay as ordered," Janine held out a list to him and David quickly glanced over it.

"I thought there would be more…" he gestured helplessly, in search of a politically correct way to phrase himself.

"Thomas barely graduated high school and Tony has…" Janine cleared her throat. "Some interesting private interests that I don't think Owen would much care for."

David looked at her sharply.

"Nothing illegal I hope."

"He's a bit of a conman," Janine smiled at him. "But I was talking more about the fact that his kinks lead him more toward the dominatrix type than the shy office worker."

"Oh," David absolutely did not blush at that.

"I can't be sure if Owen _would_ be interested in that sort of thing but even if he is, it's usually safer to be cautious and just assume no. Anyways, Daddy and Vogel are headed out of country Thursday night, they won't be back until Monday and he already knows I'm having friends over."

"He didn't specifically tell you not to let me in the house?" David asked, mildly surprised.

"I told him I was inviting some friends from the college and acting class. He had no reason to think I'd include an old man like you in my twenty-somethings crowd," Janine sat sideways on his desk, looking at him with half-lidded eyes.

David was suddenly struck with an urge to pull her into a kiss and he suspected that the notion had occurred to her too. He promptly squashed the feeling and gave her a smirk.

"Old man, am I?"

"Ancient," Janine shifted, facing more toward him. For a moment he thought she was going to close the distance between them but instead she twisted back around and hopped gracefully off the desk. "I already let them know that the clever, pretty blonde man I'm introducing them all to is going to be a little shy and a bit of a geek and that I'm not entirely sure which way he swings. They all seemed game and Cody likes the shy sort so if he _does _like men, we're set," she made a circuit of the room and David made himself not watch her walk. "Tiffany is gorgeous and used to the old 'cute girls can't be smart' stereotype so she prefers smarts to looks and will probably appreciate having an intelligent conversation for once."

"The others?"

"Katie is working on her masters in English literature; I picked her more for looking like me with brown hair than anything else. John," Janine flinched. "John is a biologist, he's going back to work on a doctorates, I think. He's also very," she posed, one hand on her cocked hip the other flapping at the end of a limp wrist, "you know. Jeremy is new to the whole liking men thing but he's sweet and he's finished his AA in math. Samantha is a fitness instructor. She's not stupid, she just isn't going to be able to contribute to the science talk but she's got an amazing body, so there's that."

David made a noise like a grunt and Janine gave him a look. "She sounds delightful."

"I just bet," she gave him another half-lidded look, this one more dangerous than playful. "Beth did three years of medical college before turning tail and taking up acting classes; she'll be able to keep up with the conversation and she'll be good if Owen decides he likes a more conservative girl. I didn't think you'd want profiles on the non players."

"Not particularly, no. Thank you. This should work well."

"Assuming he shows up," Janine said pointedly. David waved a dismissive hand.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure he's there."

"If you say so…" David frowned at her doubting tone but her expression was back to being playful. "I'd better run before someone starts wondering what we're doing in here. 'Bye David," she blew a kiss in his direction. "See you Friday."

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><p>AN: Long wait for an itty bitty little baby chapter. Sorry.


	9. The Best Laid Plans

In the Beginning

Summary: In the beginning, Owen genuinely disliked David Xanatos.

A/N: From here on out Janine is going to shift from a background consideration to a reoccuring character and finally a plot affecting main character. Just thought I'd give you all a heads up.

Spoilers: Vows mostly.

Warnings: possible language

Disclaimer: Gargoyles… _Disney… Buena Vista… Greg Weisman… not me._

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><p>Chapter 8: The Best Laid Plans…<p>

David wasn't certain what he expected from the rest of that week but what he got was a suddenly very agreeable and obedient Owen.

Choosing to believe that the blond was in a good mood due to having been invited to Janine's party David took advantage of Owen's improved mood and together they got more work done than David would have thought possible. Then Friday arrived.

"Mr. Xanatos," Owen was hesitating outside of David's office. The darker man stood with a welcoming smile.

"Owen, please come in," he waited until Owen was seated across from him before sitting. "What can I do for you?"

"Sir it's about…" the blond hesitated again. David waited patiently, warm smile plastered across his face. "I was hoping you would be so kind as to express my regrets to Ms. Renard-"

"Don't tell me you won't be joining us tonight," David had considered the possibility that Owen would try to beg out of going and had prepared for it. Owen pressed his lips together.

"I'm afraid that is exactly what I have to tell you."

"Well why can't you come? Hot date?" it was the only valid excuse besides death that David would accept.

"My car broke down this morning," David seriously doubted that "and won't be back to working order until Monday."

"Take a cab," strangely convenient that Owen's spotless, perfect vehicle would suddenly be broken but fixable that coming Monday. "Better idea, I'll drive. It'll save you the fare."

"There's also some work I need to finish this weekend and-"

"You're only working with me right now and anything for the project can either wait to be finished or passed to someone else," David raised a hand to silence Owen's argument before the other man could get a word out. "You've done brilliant work these past weeks and you deserve a break. Most of what you do is supposed to be passed down to underlings anyway. No, I insist. The day is almost over, I can drop you off at your-"

"No sir, that's quite alright," Owen finally interrupted him. David paused. "I can get a cab home and to Ms. Renard's house. You needn't worry yourself."

"Good," David's smile was more predatory than friendly.

(Line Break)

Owen had tried to get out of keeping his word once; David didn't doubt that he'd try it again.

The apartment building was old brick, as opposed to David's glass and steel high rise, but it looked well cared for and he forced himself not to make any assumptions. He located O. Burnett on the tenant list and hit the intercom. There was a long pause.

"_Hello?_" Owen almost sounded surprised. David smiled.

"Hey, Owen. I realized that I had to come this way to get to Janine's anyways and figured I'd stop by and get you. Save you that cab fare."

"…_I see_," there was a loud buzz and the door unlocked. Grinning, David entered the building.

The third floor, like the rest of the building, was old but well cared for. David was passed by a woman carrying bags and followed by a troop of no less than three children shortly before coming to a stop outside Owen's door. He raised a hand to knock and found himself quickly back stepping as the blond walked out, snapping the door shut behind him before David could even glance inside.

"Sir," the blond greeted after testing the knob to be sure the door had locked. He was, David was annoyed to see, dressed exactly as he had been at work. No, the dark man quickly corrected himself; Owen had removed his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. It could have been worse.

"All set?"

"Of course, sir," Owen didn't wait for the other man to respond or… do anything really, but headed straight down the hall to the elevator.

Shy and awkward, David reminded himself as he caught up with the younger man. The elevator ride down was a how David thought being trapped in a tomb would be. Owen stood beside him but might as well have still been in the office. He was unmoving and silent, back ramrod straight. David had, for some silly reason, expected the perfect posture to relax after hours but considered that perhaps the issue was that he was still Owen's superior despite being outside of the office.

David hadn't considered that as a potential problem since endearing himself to other office members, in and out of the building, hadn't been an issue. But Owen was young and new to office politics. Besides seeing David as a rival for Janine he could also see David as social handy cap. David frowned slightly, realizing that this wasn't something he'd given much thought to. The age difference, would naturally, not help. That wasn't good.

"Owen," the blond glanced at him just as the elevator came to a stop. "You know that your behavior outside of the office in no way affects my opinion of you as a worker, don't you?"

There was a pause and the elevator doors opened. Owen pushed up his glasses but it seemed more like a stall for time than a deliberate insult.

"Of course, sir."

"Good," David clapped the younger man on the back and strode out of the elevator, as jovial as could be. He heard Owen following.

The car ride was, if anything, worse than the elevator. Owen sat almost pressed against the passenger side door, his chin in his hand. It was the first time David had seen the younger man do something so indicative of boredom (or plain insolence as the situation suggested) in a young person that he counted it as a small victory. But the silence was horrible.

David didn't usually care for the meaningless noise of the radio but he flipped it on just to break the silence. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Owen's left hand twitch toward the radio and thought that the young man might change the station or even shut it off. Such an obvious form of rebellion would have been welcome but the blond didn't do anything more interesting than shift to a more comfortable position as he continued to stare out the window.

Owen's apartment had been considerably farther from the Renard residence than David's and the older man had fully expected for the blond to comment; he said nothing. David sighed.

This was going to be harder than he'd first thought.

(Line Break)

At exactly ten minutes past six David was walking to the front door of the Renard residence with Owen in tow. If David hadn't known any better he'd have thought that the younger man was dragging his feet. The door burst open before he had a chance to ring the doorbell but the sight that greeted him was considerably nicer than the one he'd gotten at Owen's apartment.

Janine grinned up at him in a sparkling cocktail dress. He just managed to return the smile before she gave him one of her patented air kisses.

"David! Fashionably late I see," Janine gave him a sly look before turning her attention to Owen. "And Owen, I'm so happy you could come," Owen had apparently prepared himself for this moment and leaned forward to accept the touch of cheek to cheek. Janine pulled away genuinely smiling and David had to check himself before he let any jealousy bubble up. "Well, come in, I've got some people here who are just dying to meet you."

They were all dying to meet Owen, but waited patiently while Janine introduced them all one at a time. There were, at David's count, four people missing, but he kept it to himself. For all he knew they were just more fashionably late than he was.

"And this is Cody," Janine nudged Owen in the direction of the other man and David blinked. Cody, if he remembered correctly, was one of the gay men. He never would have known if he hadn't been told. Smiling genially, with white teeth and short brown hair, the young man - perhaps a year or two older than Owen - took the blond's hand and gave it a firm shake. He looked, in David's humble opinion, like a well put together football player. David shifted attention to gage Owen's reaction which wasn't much of one. "And his lab partner, Tiffany."

As promised, Tiffany brought to mind playboy centerfolds rather than lab coats. She greeted Owen with a very inviting smile that, David noted, didn't seem to do anything. Damn.

"Lab partner?" Owen repeated his head slightly tilted. It took all of David's will power to keep from whooping in victory. Over Cody's shoulder, Janine gave him a victorious smile. "What specialty?"

"We're doing a study in mechanical engineering," Tiffany's smile became less sultry and more genuinely pleased. "We just happened to get stuck with each other for all the hard bits," she playfully nudged the brunette beside her.

"Janine said that you're working for her father at CyberBiotics," Cody handed a glass of what looked to be beer to Owen who accepted graciously and without hesitation. "What do you do there?"

And that started the long explanation of his usual work and the current project. David was pleased to note that Owen was, while not necessarily animated, certainly less monotone than he'd come to expect. Janine excused herself from the group to answer the door and David drifted away from Owen and the two engineers and to the group of slightly older people seated at the couch.

John was alarmingly easy to pick out of the group in that he looked like he would have been more comfortable in a dress than the tight shirt and pants he was wearing. David tried to make conversation with the couple, newly married, while John attempted to flirt with him.

David had never been happier to see Janine than when she returned with two new women, one on each arm. David decided that Janine had been understating things just a bit when she'd told him that Katie looked like her with brown hair. Besides the height difference (Katie was far shorter) and hair color (it was more a mahogany than a brown), David might have thought he was seeing double. On Janine's other side, judging from the toned arms and ample bosom, could only have been Samantha. John caught him staring and chuckled.

"If there was any doubt before about what team you play for there isn't now."

David didn't dignify that with a response.

"David, Owen, this is Katie and Sam. Katie, Sam these are the guys I was telling you about," Janine pointed out David where he was sitting and let the two smile at him before gently directing them to where Owen and Cody were in deep conversation. Tiffany seemed to be contributing with scathing remarks and more teasing nudges. Janine stayed to make sure everyone was comfortable and to make sure Katie wouldn't be left out before heading to David's side. A moment later, Samantha followed her, apparently bored with the science.

"Lovely get together, my dear," David said with his most charming of smiles. Janine narrowed her eyes at him but didn't reprimand him for the endearment. Behind her, Owen took his first sip of the beer Cody had handed to him. As far as David could tell it was the first of many.

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><p>AN: It's short because it's not important. You'll almost always be able to tell if a chapter is a transition(filler) or plot affecting by it's length and how soon another chapter is posted right after it.

Please Review. It makes me type faster if you can believe it.


	10. Of Drunken Nights and Blank Walls

In the Beginning

A/N: Go read Five Minutes to Midnight; it's important. Go on, I'll wait. We good? Ok, everything I've established in those one-shots holds true for this story (as this is the prequel). Also this will be the start of the reoccurring theme (a plot point) that Owen and Fox speak French and David does not. I won't be providing translations because 1) David doesn't understand a word they're saying which is the whole point and 2) If it's that important to you (nothing that they say affects the chapters as a whole) you can run it through Google translate. If you do run it through a translator or speak French yourself you'll notice that what they say is very stiff and unnatural (Owen) and grammatically incorrect (Fox). I totally did it on purpose.

Spoilers: Vows if any

Warnings: possible language

Disclaimer: Gargoyles… _Disney… Buena Vista… Greg Weisman… not me._

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><p>Chapter 9: Of Drunken Nights and Blank Walls<p>

"Someone's looking to get laid~" John sang softly in the middle of a discussion on the newest car designs that David had been enjoying. Fitness, nutrition and cars; Sam was an expert in a lot of things that weren't science it seemed. The dark man redirected his gaze to the little huddle of people standing in the middle of the room. Owen was apparently trying to explain something to Katie that had initially gone over her head. There was nothing particularly suggestive about their position and David started to dismiss the comment as drunken ramblings when he spotted Cody.

The brunette had positioned himself behind Owen with barely any breathing room between them and was reaching around Owen's waist to hand the blond another beer. Owen froze and looked over his shoulder at the other man for a moment before accepting the drink and shifting away.

For a moment David worried that the brunette was going to do something as personal - and frankly, inappropriate - as wrapping an arm around Owen's waist but he'd apparently realized that the approach was unwanted and moved away. Janine put her lips next to David's ear.

"That's the forth beer they've given him," she whispered softly. "I don't know what he's doing with them, but he can't be drinking it all," David gave her a weird look. Owen had left the room only once to use the restroom and even now, under David's scrutiny the blond was swaying slightly on his feet. Either Janine was talking about something else or she was losing her touch.

Tiffany loudly apologized for needing to turn in early and, with a _very_ friendly hug, muttered something in Owen's ear and handed him a piece of paper. Janine stood and accompanied her friend out, apparently to ensure that the other woman found a cab safely. Without a second glance, Owen slipped the paper into his pocket. David smirked slightly and counted it as a personal point for himself.

Over the course of the evening Owen drank another beer, got another two slips of paper and had gently declined the separate offers from Samantha and John to "visit my place" and "get to know each other a little better". David chose to assume the refusals had more to do with Owen's high moral fiber than any real disinterest.

"Well Owen," David said when the crowd had dwindled down to the married couple, the host and themselves. "Ready to pack it in?"

Owen looked at him, or at least in his general direction, and nodded vaguely. It appeared that Owen, when given enough alcohol, was a quiet drunk. David tried not to be a little disappointed by that. Janine pouted at him from her seat a few spaces away.

"Oh David, don't tell me you're leaving already?" It was actually quite late but David suspected that Janine had been hoping he would stay until the others - possibly even Owen with one of the other guests - had left. The dark haired man shrugged and clapped a hand on the blond's shoulder. Owen somehow managed to shift away from the touch under his own power and without toppling over.

"Well, my fox, I really should be getting Mr. Burnett here home safely."

"'Fox'?" Janine raised her eyebrows at him, smiling playfully. "Been working on your French, David?"

"I thought it suit you."

"Hmmm. Fox," she pretended to try the word on her tongue and grinned. "I like it," she turned to her other guests who were chuckling politely. "Daddy'll hate it, of course."

"Of course," David said brightly, laying a hand on Owen's arm. "His unending ire is what I strive for."

Janine rose gracefully from her seat and caught up with them just as David was opening the door.

"Thank you for coming," David bowed his head, expecting a touch of lips to cheek. There was a pause and then he felt the press of lightly glossed lips against the corner of his mouth. The dark haired man waited for the young woman to pull back before raising his eyebrows at her in askance. Janine only smiled and turned to Owen who had been studiously not looking in their direction. "I know you weren't exactly thrilled to come but I hope-"

"Cela m'a fait plaisir, petite sœur," Owen interrupted smoothly. Janine blinked in surprise. David, who really didn't speak French, could only assume that the blond had spoken correctly which seemed strangely eloquent for a drunk man. Whatever he'd said made Janine unnaturally pleased after another moment of quiet shock.

"Je suis honoré d'être appelé comme. You're always welcome here," she said earnestly and Owen gave her a chivalrous bow; somehow managing not to tip right over onto the floor. David had to squash another bubble of jealousy before it could show its ugly head. He was saved from having to come up with the awkward change of topic that would get him back to his car when Janine returned her attention to him. "And while Daddy would as soon shoot you as welcome you in,_ I'll_ always welcome you too."

"Careful," David teased, temper momentarily abated. "I might take you up on that."

"Oh? I kind of wish you would," Janine laughed. "Good night David, good night Owen."

(Line break)

The ride back to Owen's apartment was made in a horrible, stony silence that was mostly (alright, entirely) David's fault. Owen was slumped in the passenger seat and looked completely relaxed. It was far from what David had come to expect of the young man and he decided didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.

What little he understood of French grammar and linguistic rules suggested that Owen had used a sort of endearment on Janine. Small something-or-other he had called her. Never mind that the preceding sentence that had sounded, to his untrained ears, very personal. Inappropriately personal considering that Owen knew damn well that- David took a slow calming breath.

It wasn't what Owen had done that had upset him, David reminded himself calmly. It had been Janine's reactions -reactions that should not have surprised him. She could be nice, she was often playful and she'd probably been baiting him. And he'd let her.

Damn it.

He parked on the street outside the building and got out in time to catch Owen as the blond stumbled up the curb.

"Here let me-"

"No sir, just a…" Owen spent a quiet moment detracting his arm from David's grip before continuing. "Just a trip. I'm quite alright."

"I happen to disagree," David said brightly. Owen blinked at him. "At least let me make sure you get to your door alright."

It would have turned into an argument, David could tell, if he hadn't immediately taken Owen's arm again and started firmly leading him to the building's front door. Owen fumbled his keys but they got inside without major incident.

And then they got to his floor.

"I insist sir, I am quite alright," Owen was attempting to hold his keys as far from David's reaching hand as possible. It wasn't going well for him, what with David being taller.

"Owen," David grunted and tried to grab again. Owen somehow twisted away and the keys were out of reach once more. Eyes narrowed the dark haired man put an arm around Owen's back to hold the blond still. It was like trying to hold onto an eel, he decided as the young man somehow managed to turn his back to David anyways. "I only want-"

The two men stopped grappling long enough to watch a teenage girl dart past into the apartment at the end of the hall.

"I assure you sir, I might not be able to drive but I can certainly open a door," unnaturally steady and graceful for someone who was supposed to be completely smashed, Owen ducked out of David's grip and, without dropping the keys or mixing them up, got the door open. David recovered in time to take hold of the door before Owen could close it again.

"Owen I-"

"Let go of the door," the blond said in an annoyed tone, tugging fruitlessly on the knob in an attempt to get it shut. David might not have cared had it been anyone else, but this was getting very strange very quickly and the darker man found himself suddenly very curious about what was inside that apartment. He held strong and stuck his foot through the threshold. Glaring Owen started to pull harder.

"Just let me help-"

"Let go of the door!" the young man snapped. Surprised, David stepped back and let go. The door slammed shut and he heard the loud thud of a body hitting the floor.

"Owen?" David swung the door open and found the blond sitting dazed on the floor where he'd apparently fallen. He took the opportunity to let himself in, the door shutting softly behind him. "Owen are you alright?" The blond blinked and slowly got back to his feet, once again loose limbed and intoxicated. David might have paid more attention if he hadn't been staring at Owen's living room.

There was no couch, or television, or chairs. There was no table, no pictures, no bookcase; no boxes that suggested a recent move. The room was completely empty. David glanced in Owen's direction to find the blond leaning his back heavily against a wall, hands shoved into his pockets and chin to his chest.

David stepped around the other man and peeked down the hall.

"Not one for interior decorating, are you?" David tried for a light tone but it sounded flat to his own ears. He heard the rustling of fabric as Owen shrugged.

"I never quite got around to furnishing."

David might have believed that if there had been television somewhere in the room, or if he'd believed that Owen spent most of his free time out socializing - which he knew that the blond did not. He might have believed it if there had been some small trace of mess on the floor. Foot prints, an umbrella thoughtlessly discarded by the door or a jacket hanging carelessly from a kitchen chair.

There was no umbrella, there was no mess, there were no kitchen chairs. There was no kitchen table either. David still might have believed it if there had been sign of life in the kitchen. Dishes in the sink, a soda bottle on the counter, a used knife left out, or a pile of take-out menus. There were no dishes, there was no bottle, there were no knives and there were no menus.

David would have been surprised to find food in the fridge or a bed in the bedroom but he didn't look. He was a little worried that he wouldn't like what he saw. There was another rustling noise and David turned to see Owen push away from the wall, swaying slightly.

"I'd invite you t'stay, sir," Owen slurred slightly and David put a hand out to steady the young man. "But there's only one bed."

David was still searching that statement for a hidden meaning when the bedroom door snapped shut and David was letting himself out.

Owen had no furniture. Why? The streets were calm and nearly empty so David was able to devote a considerable amount of his attention to thought.

Owen worked overtime and on his days off, yes, but when the building closed - it was not open 24 hours a day, David knew - Owen had to go somewhere. Local bars? Owen did not seem the drinking type; that evening's activities excluded. Visiting family and friends until the wee hours of the morning? Owen's family was, supposedly, still in Boston and the blond was hardly sociable; that was what had started David's scheming. Spending his free time at the gym perhaps?

David found himself unsure if this were either the most or least likely possibility. Owen was thin to look at but during the struggle had turned out to be far more fit than he first appeared. David recalled grabbing on to what had seemed to be a twig like arm only to find that he was grasping a fairly toned, if not particularly muscular, bicep. If Owen was spending his time at the gym it wasn't strength training or muscle building he was doing.

And even then, why no couch? Television? He was paid enough to afford it, David was sure. No pictures hanging from the walls and no books lying around. It was possible Owen lived in the bedroom but...

Maybe he just didn't care? David was struck with the fairly awful thought that perhaps Owen returned to that empty apartment each night, looked around and just couldn't bring himself to care enough to change anything. That smacked of major depression and while David wouldn't call Owen happy he also didn't think that the blond was depressed. Maybe he just didn't _want_ to think of the blond as depressed.

David was still mulling over the new discovery when he entered his own apartment. He spent a long moment looking around his tastefully furnished living room; at the framed painting, the glass coffee table and cream sofa. Furnishing that room had been one of the first things he'd done upon finding the apartment. He rarely used it and some might call it sterile, but it looked as though someone owned it at least. Sighing he picked up the phone.

"Do you have a moment?" He asked as soon as the ringing stopped. Janine chuckled.

"_The last of my guests just left. What can I do for you David?"_ The way she said it was very solicitous but David managed not to say anything incriminating.

"Seems some of your friends couldn't make it."

"_Shame isn't it? Jeremy had a hot date and Beth decided she wanted to spend her evening doing something else. Can you believe it? What could possibly be more interesting than my parties?"_

"I agree. It was completely unforgiveable of the both of them," David soothed.

"_And you were wrong about Owen, though it certainly surprised me. Oh well, a good excuse for a party even if-"_

"I'm sorry, I seem to have missed the conversational segue. What about Owen?" David couldn't stop the frown from showing through his voice.

_"He doesn't like me. Not the way you thought he does. Like I was saying, it's too ba-"_

"What, he didn't spend the night flirting so he's not interested?"

_"David,"_ Janine chuckled on the other end. _"Believe me, a girl knows. He isn't interested. If you're having trouble with him then that just means that he doesn't like you."_

"Doesn't like me?" David had regained control of his voice and was able to put a playful tone in his words. "Why wouldn't someone like me?"

_"Beats me, but like I said, he isn't jealous," _she sounded convinced and David really wasn't in the mood to argue his point. If things worked out it wouldn't matter. _"Certainly not after all the attention he received tonight," _Janine continued as though she'd read David's mind._ "I hope something works out. He'd be so cute with any of them."_

"I hope you didn't pick your guests simply for how nice they'd look as a couple with Owen," David said teasingly. The redhead hummed.

"_The world may never know. I'm turning in. Sleep well David."_

"And you, my fox."

"_Oooh. I really do like that_. _We'll have to keep it secret from Daddy of course."_

"Just one of many things the old man doesn't know for his own good."

* * *

><p>AN: For those of you who are wondering, "Renard" is French for "Fox". I like to think that David and Fox are of the "you do what you do and I'll do what I do and as long as what you do doesn't get in the way of what I do it'll all be peachy keen" sort and that sexuality and social status wouldn't much matter to either of them regardless of societal norms.


	11. Explosions and Hangovers

In the Beginning

Summary: In the beginning, Owen genuinely disliked David Xanatos.

A/N: I wrote myself into a major wall here, which is what those increasingly long breaks between updates were all about. Several things went wrong: The writing music was breeding the wrong bunnies, I wrote myself into a wall that the plot and outline said I couldn't write myself out of and I got a little bored with what I was doing. What I usually do in these situations is use an explosion to blow that wall right up and the outline even called for an explosion in an upcoming chapter but the set up felt... cheap. So I went and drifted around in some other fandoms for a bit which lead me to some Fanvids on youtube which lead me to new music and my first major break from my outline. That was distressing (why have an outline if I'm not going to follow it religiously?) but I felt this and future chapters were improved and it made way for less angsty things in the future. So yay.

Spoilers: Vows mostly.

Warnings: possible language

Disclaimer: Gargoyles… _Disney… Buena Vista… Greg Weisman… not me._

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><p>Chapter 10: Explosions and Hangovers but not Necessarily in that Order<p>

David was woken before dawn by his ringing phone. His initial response was to roll over and swear at his pillow but as that did nothing to stop the ringing he was eventually forced into more productive action and picked up the phone.

"What?" As a frantic voice on the other end of the line began to relay just 'what' the interruption on David's day off was all about David found himself suddenly very awake. He hung up in the middle of the ranting and flung back his bed clothes, all but running to his closet.

Owen didn't answer his home phone so David went through the arduous procedure of paging the young man from his car phone as he sped through New York Saturday morning traffic.

Finally, after too long, the phone rang back at him. Driving and talking weren't recommended and David usually tried to avoid it but as this was a special case he felt no regret in grabbing the receiver as he navigated around a Ford moving too slowly for his liking.

"Owen," he snapped into the phone as soon as he had it near his ear. "Where are you?"

_"I'm already at CyberBiotics. We've been briefed on the situation and the fire department has just released the building. When will you be here?"_

"Ten- Bastard!" David wasn't generally given to road rage but early mornings and bad news apparently changed a lot of things about a man. He slammed his fist into his horn and awkwardly used his knee to steer around what would have otherwise been a collision. "Better make that fifteen minutes. I want a list of what we lost and what we can save in my hands when I get there."

"Already working on it sir," Owen hung up but David didn't take it personally. The blond probably needed both hands available to him just as badly as David did.

The dark haired man gave the wheel a sharp jerk as he avoided a pedestrian in the middle of the street. Maybe Owen didn't need his hands quite as much as David did, but it was probably pretty close.

(Mini break)

The fire department had released the building to the police and the lower floors were back in the hands of CyberBiotics employees. Myra flagged him down on the main floor before David could get onto the elevator.

"Owen... said to give this to you," the heavyset woman panted, shoving a handful of loose sheets into David's chest. He caught the papers and rearranged them so that they wouldn't end up all over the floor. "Mr. Renard is getting the... next plane back and the police are still poking... around the labs but the floor is otherwise back in our hands... You can take the elevator to the third floor but you need to take the stairs the rest of the way," she sucked in another breath of air and her words were more even when she started speaking again. "Owen's left but he said he'd be back in a few minutes; he had something he had to check on."

David glanced down and saw that the papers were the list he'd asked for, a notice from the police and several other pertinent documents that David hadn't remembered to ask for. He thanked the woman and jogged the rest of the way to the elevator. He spent the short trip up looking through the list, swearing and mentally preparing himself for the disaster he was about to stumble out on.

David didn't spend a lot of time on the third floor, as it had been devoted to PR the entire time David had worked at the building, but from what he saw as he ran from elevator to stair well, everything looked to be in order. People in various stages of work dress - from rumpled suits to pajamas - milled around and seemed to be rearranging things in a vain attempt to return the day to some sort of semblance of order. It gave David some hope for what he'd find on the fifth floor.

He was only mildly winded when he entered the main office space but then what air he had left immediately left him. Desks were overturned, papers were scattered, several of the poorly constructed cubicles were completely overturned and everything was wet. The sprinkler system had done a fair job of stopping any spread of fire. He moved slowly past Owen's cubicle. The computer would never be the same, of course. The files neatly tucked into the metal drawer under his desk would be fine. Owen's nigh obsessive neatness had saved his work.

David walked down the hall toward the labs and a greater density of people. Few of the workers on that floor had come up from the lobby but scientists and technicians were helping the police dig through the more hazardous mess. Here, as David had known it would be, was where the fire had started and done the worst of the damage.

Chemicals had helped the fire burn hotter and higher, as evidenced by the scorch marks on the ceilings. Glass had exploded where it hadn't outright melted and what little paper had been in the rooms were ash on the floor. David whistled at the sight to keep a less manly noise from escaping him.

Someone grabbed onto his arm. David glanced down at a short, raven-haired woman in a police uniform.

"You supposed to be up here, buddy?" she asked briskly. David was given the impression that she was new to the whole police officer thing and was over compensating by acting tough. He reached into his back pocket and, ignoring the way she stiffened as he did it, pulled out his work id, thankful that he'd had the foresight to grab it as he'd left his apartment.

"I work here," he handed her the laminated card. "I was managing a project on this floor, I came to see how much work we'd lost," he waited as she looked over his id and took it back. "Do you have any idea what happened, officer?" She pressed her lips as though mentally debating whether or not she could tell him anything.

"We're calling it arson. You can look around but don't touch anything," she ordered sternly. David smiled carefully and promised to be on his best behavior. She gave him a look that made him suspect that maybe that had been the wrong thing to say, but she left him alone after a parting warning. David kept his hands to his sides and clearly visible as he walked past the young officer to the lab Renard had loaned to him for his work. The police had apparently finished with it already and the taped off area was empty of people.

"Well," David surveyed the destruction with an outwardly cool expression but inside he was seething. Four months of work all gone, never mind the other damaged parts of the building. "This is a mess."

"Indeed," silent as a cat, Owen stepped up beside the dark haired man and held out one of the two steaming cardboard cups he held. David paused to check the brand on the disposable mug and noted that Owen bought his coffee from the nearby cafe that David had personally always associated with hippies and perpetual students.

"How much did we lose?" he asked after a quick sip. Owen had good taste; it was strong with no bitter aftertaste and a faint hint of cinnamon.

"Ninety percent of the work. We've been set back to pre-production."

"_Fantastic_," David frowned down at a broken and charred glass beaker. "Any idea how this happened?"

"Sabotage in lab six. There have been threatening letters from environmental extremist groups."

"I didn't know that there had been any threats," David turned and frowned at the blond. As he watched as Owen took a small sip from his own mug.

"Mr. Renard receives such threats every time he starts a project that might involve bio-engineering. Nothing's come of it before so for the most part employees aren't informed."

"You knew," David narrowed his eyes. The younger man shrugged slightly and took another drink of coffee.

"I overheard while taking a report to Mr. Vogel last week."

"Ah," David returned his attention to the wreckage, mentally calculating how long it would take to catch up to where they had been before the fire. "How's your head?"

"My head, sir?" Owen furrowed his brows at the other man.

"You were hitting the beer pretty hard last night," David gave the blond a speculative look. Owen blinked back at him for a moment before returning his gaze to the lab.

"Quite alright, sir. I have a fast metabolism and between the aspirin and caffeine..." Owen raised his cup and trailed off. David had more important things to do than pursue the line of questioning. "Mr. Renard and Mr. Vogel are in the air as we speak, they'll land in six hours."

"Wonderful. It'll take us at least another five months to make up all the work we lost."

"Eight, sir," David gave the other man a questioning look and Owen gestured at the lab. "Some of the equipment here is one of a kind CyberBiotics invention. Most of it can be replaced, the rest will need to be repaired. The labs need to be cleared, the police will need to close the investigation. Eight months assuming all of those things can be accomplished immediately..." the blond trailed off and David swore.

"It would be more profitable to drop it and start on something else. It wasn't going to work in any practical setting. Not right away," David considered revealing his motivations for the project - to facilitate a new technology he was planning to patent privately to help start his own company - to the blond then, but changed his mind. It could wait. The fire had set his entire time table back a year.

"Indeed. Have you something in mind or shall we wait for instructions from Mr. Renard?"

"Might as well wait," David shrugged. "I didn't have anything else planned."

(Line Break)

Halcyon Renard's instructions were less than satisfactory.

"Research," David repeated, staring down the woman across from him. Myra patted his hand and smiled sympathetically. "He wants me to sit on _research_ until the labs are back in order."

Two days of trying to fix computers and replace lost documents had left David in a sour mood. At least - he'd been reminded more than once - the police were done poking their noses around and the press had gotten bored with them.

"I know it's hard dear but-"

"But nothing; I know exactly what the old man is doing. He thinks if he sits me in research now then he can keep me there until Hell freezes over. Well I won't do it. I've come too far-"

"Have ya thought that maybe research might not be so bad?" Belinda dropped her empty soda bottle in the waste bin and started toward the door. "The archives can be pretty cool. Try it for a bit, yeah? Maybe you'll find something inspirational."

David was still silently fuming as he dug through boxes at his temporary desk. He could remember the little smirk in Halcyon's eyes as he'd explained that in the recovery process they had a lot of _redundancies_ and David could be of better use if he were reassigned. The dark haired man had wanted badly to snap at the ailing man but he'd professionally kept it in and swallowed the bad news with a grim smile. Of course Owen hadn't been seen as a redundancy. The young man was on Halcyon's left side while Vogel took the right and the three of them breezed through the building, improving things here and criticizing there.

He supposed that he couldn't fault the young man for being considered valuable but it was frustrating.

"What?" he snapped into the receiver of his phone after a brief ring interrupted his mental rant.

_"Someone's grumpy,"_ came the purring response. David glanced up and remembered with a jolt that for the moment he didn't have a door to close.

"Yes, Fox?"

_"Is that going to be your code name for me now? I feel so sneaky,"_ the redhead giggled on the other end.

"I'm a bit busy right now-"

_"And not alone, I'm guessing?"_

"Right. So what can I do for you?" David wasn't the best of multi-taskers but he managed to pull a file from one of the boxes without dropping the phone.

"_I heard about what happened and uh... your new position_," David snorted. _"Look I know you're busy and pissed off - rightfully so, of course - but I thought you'd like to know that Tiffany called."_

"Who?" David tilted his head, eyes rapidly scanning a series of chemical formula.

"_Oh David... From the party? The playboy model that understands science?"_

"Right right. What did she want?"

_"A double date. Owen hasn't called her and she doesn't want to come on too strongly by calling him. I told her I'd arrange for the four of us to meet up,"_ David finally set down the paper.

"Really? That's great. Sometime next week should be clear for us both."

_"Good. I'll let her know,"_ David returned his attention back to the chemical symbols in front of him. "_I can tell you're busy. I'll call with more details, ok?_"

"Sure sure."

"_Alright. Talk later darling_."

"Mmhmm," David blinked. "Wait did you-" laughing, Janine hung up. David stared at the phone for a long moment before finally setting it down. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a grey suit attached to a blond head stride past. "Owen wait," the blond head reappeared. "Do you have a moment? I have a question."

"You mean another question, sir?" Owen raised an eyebrow at him and came to stand in front of David's desk. David smiled.

"Yes, another question."

"I suppose I could spare a few minutes," Owen glanced down at his watch and David wondered what the younger man might have been rushing off to that early in the afternoon other than lunch.

"What do you know about this?" David passed over the sheet of chemical formula and watched Owen glance it over.

"One of Mr. Renard's early attempts to break into the prescription drug business. From the looks of the components it was meant to help ease some of his own symptoms; an alternative to more addictive painkillers," Owen turned the page over. "A failure. They discontinued study on his orders and CyberBiotics became a strictly robotic engineering manufacturer," Owen handed the sheet back. "All before my time, sir."

"Of course. Do you know if they patented this substance?"

"Mr. Renard patents all of his work. There were attempts to steal some of his research early on," Owen said dismissively, glancing at his watch again.

"Am I keeping you from something?" David asked, mildly irritated. Owen gave him a long look.

"I'm meeting someone for lunch in five minutes," the blond deadpanned. For a moment David wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. "Please continue, I still have time."

"No, that was all, thank you," David sat back and watched Owen walk away. A date? Surely not. The blond was probably going to treat Myra to lunch. David turned his attention back to the file that his sheet of formula had come out of. The fire might have set back his grand plan by a year... but this could jump it forward a year and a half. He started plotting.

While technology was his particular interest and while he fully intended to fund his own business with the manufacture of weaponry he needed funding first. A way to get his foot in the door. Chemical agents had always seemed a good starting point. Pharmaceuticals... could be profitable.

(Line Break)

David was back to doing his actual job and taking notes for someone he technically outranked in the company hierarchy when Owen returned from lunch. The blond stopped in front of David's temporary desk, still and silent. David played with the idea of letting the blond stand there and seeing how long it would take before he either walked away or cleared his throat but squashed the notion when he realized that Owen was just as likely to stand there indefinitely.

"Yes Owen?" David set down his pen and looked up. Silently, the blond held out a thick blue binder. Without thinking David accepted it and flipped it open. "What's this?"

"More discontinued pharmaceutical experiments," Owen said mildly. David's eyebrows rose to his hairline but he didn't turn his gaze from the sheets of paper in front of him. "The majority of the work is in the Archives section. Some seem to have been abandoned in the planning stages."

"Really?" David didn't think to mention that he'd never asked for this information. It didn't seem important. "Hmmm..." There were some dangerous combinations described on those pages. "You said there were more?"

"A box or two, yes."

"Ah..." David lost the next sentence he'd planned to say as his eyes alighted upon a familiar combination. He dug a file that had no business being in his possession out of his drawer and opened it. The descriptions matched. David did nothing to stop the smirk spreading across his face. "Thank you Owen. That's all."

* * *

><p>AN: Major Wall aside, this is actually flowing fairly smoothly now. As usual R&R to feed the writing urges.


	12. Meddling Kids and Picking Your Battles

In the Beginning

Summary: In the beginning, Owen genuinely disliked David Xanatos.

Spoilers: Vows mostly.

Warnings: possible language

Disclaimer: Gargoyles… _Disney… Buena Vista… Greg Weisman… not me._

A/N: So what happened was Porn Bunnies invaded and killed all the Plot Bunnies, I got really really busy, and NO ONE WAS REVIEWING so I kinda forgot I was writing this... (Which happens a lot for all my stories. So Review!) And then when I remembered it turned out my notes got so extensive that I had to give names to the different events and then number the sections (Post-Move arc # 3 for a random, nonspecific example). Sigh.

* * *

><p>Chapter 11: Of Meddling Kids and Picking Your Battles<p>

Research was as dull as David had known it would be but the archives were as interesting as Belinda had suggested and David subtly got himself transferred. Subtly as in not at all and transferred as in "whatever just stop bothering me."

The basement had been completely untouched by both disaster and maintenance crew for many years. The dust was, by David's estimate, at least an inch deep but the files were relatively well protected in their poorly marked cardboard boxes. The yellow light made reading slow and for the first day and a half David carried boxes back and forth from archives to his desk until his back just couldn't take the strain anymore.

"Youth is wasted on the young," he complained in a good natured tone when he recruited Owen into helping him take the musty and - though interesting - completely useless files back to Archives.

"So I've been told sir," Owen hefted one large box just as the phone on David's desk rang. The older man picked up the receiver with a dismissive gesture.

"Hello?"

"_Hi David. Tiffany and I want to take you and Owen to dinner on Thursday, how's that sound?_"

"Just a minute Fox," David put his hand over the mouth piece. "Owen, come back for a second," the blond had already started walking away. Owen came back and set the box on David's desk with a loud thud. The dark haired man winced sympathetically. "Janine wants celebrate the fact that our building didn't burn to a crisp by taking us to dinner Thursday night."

"Does she?" Owen's voice was bland but his expression implied that the blond very much doubted every word coming out of David's mouth. To his credit, David did try to smile convincingly.

"That's right. I'll tell her you'll come?" David raised his eyebrows in question but lifted the phone to answer before the blond had even opened his mouth. Owen let out an annoyed huff, picked the box back up and, if David wasn't horribly mistaken, even rolled his eyes before stalking off again.

"_You didn't let him decide for himself did you?"_

"Of course not; he'd have said no," David said cheerfully. "What time?"

_"Sixish? Make him dress down, we're going to a pub."_

"A pub?" David's eyebrows rose to his hairline.

_"They serve food at pubs,"_ Janine insisted. David didn't quite manage to stifle his laugh. "_You laugh now, but you'll sing a different tune when we get our food."_

"Of course I will dear," David soothed, still laughing. On the other end, Janine huffed at him. "I have to get back to work now. See you in a few days."

"_If you can call what you do work_."

(Line Break)

With the last of the boxes returned to their shelves, David - feeling very disillusioned about the whole Archives thing - let Owen lead the way back out to the surface. It wasn't until he realized that they'd been walking for five minutes and had yet come to the elevator that the dark haired man realized that Owen hadn't been leading them to the exit at all.

"Owen are we lost?" David asked sharply, coming to an abrupt stop. Owen stopped a few feet ahead of him and looked back. The dark haired man raised a hand before the blond could speak. "Because this _isn't_ a short cut."

"No sir," Owen pushed up his glasses and David narrowed his eyes at the other man. "I was taking the scenic route."

"Owen, that's what husbands say to their angry wives when they've ended up in the middle of a forest with no idea how to get back onto the main road," the older man said pointedly. A pair of grey suit clad shoulders shrugged at him. David felt his face warm in anger while the younger man turned away, apparently idly studying the faded marking on the shelves of boxes on his right. "Why didn't you just-"

"In all honesty sir," Owen pushed his glasses up again. "I'm looking for something."

"Stop that."

"Sir?" Owen froze, hand half raised to touch a box on the nearest shelf.

"That thing with your glasses," David mimicked the movement and Owen's eyebrows jumped up. "You need to stop doing that. People will get the wrong impression."

"Ah," Owen's posture was dismissive and the blond returned his attention to the shelf. He seemed to change his mind and brushed the dust from the label on a box lower down. "I shall endeavor to break the habit, sir."

David didn't answer and Owen eventually dropped his hand from the box and started walking again. The blond rounded a corner and disappeared leaving David to glance at the box. It was marked as an abandoned project. A glance inside revealed three files and a few loose sheets; more chemical formula.

"Sir, the elevator," Owen's voice drifted toward him from somewhere to his left. David grabbed the box and began walking again.

(Line Break)

"You what?" Halcyon Renard wasn't doing well, if the rasp in his voice was any indication. David politely declined to comment on the older man's health.

"I wanted to know if you had any interest in continuing your work with these..." David glanced down at the file he was holding. "Medical grade-"

"David," Renard interrupted in a coddling tone. David's jaw clenched. "CyberBiotics is a robotic engineering company. I let you play around with your little..." the old man waved a dismissive, wrinkled hand. "Your little chemical mix on the off chance it would prove useful as a fuel base. Which it didn't. So now it's time to get back to doing the real work. The work I hired you to do."

"Well," David smiled tightly. "Since you aren't interested in it any more, why don't you let me have it?"

"Let you have it?" Halcyon's eyebrows rose impossibly high. "Let you have it? For what?"

"To tinker with in my free time?" David suggested mildly. "It isn't doing you any good sitting in your basement. I'll even buy it from you."

Renard held out a hand and David gamely handed over the file. Beside the old man, Vogel was giving David a poorly disguised look of disgust. The older man suddenly let out a sharp, barking laugh. He held the open file up for Vogel's inspection and the stiff man bent at the waist to look it over, expression becoming gradually more smug as he read.

"Alright," Renard handed the folder back. "You want it so bad? Fine. Vogel, clear it with the legal office so our dear Mr. Xanatos here can have his little combination of chemicals. Hell, let him have the whole project."

"Yes sir," Vogel made a note in his planner. He was less efficient at the one-handed note taking technique, David noted, than a certain blond he could name.

"Thank you," David smiled. "In the meantime, I've been asked to start cleaning out older archive files. Put them on computer and make room for new things," Renard nodded vaguely, no longer paying David the least bit of attention. "It's a big job, I was hoping I might get a bit of help."

"Sure," another dismissive hand wave. "We're still cleaning up that mess in the labs, there should be plenty of people available. Take your pick."

"Owen," David said with a pleasant smile. Predictably, Renard scowled at him.

"No."

"You just said-"

"I know what I said," Renard snapped. David schooled his expression into something nicer than rebellious. "Owen has other duties, far more important than catering to your whims. Find someone else."

"He seems to rather enjoy catering to my whims," David said a bit more viciously than he'd intended. Cold steel eyes narrowed at him from across the desk. "Why don't we leave the decision to him?"

"Because I. Will. _Not_," Halcyon's voice rose in volume with every word and he slowly stood from his chair. David held his ground though he would have been far more comfortable backing away. "Allow such a talented young man to commit career suicide. Most certainly not for _you_."

David was frozen where he stood and Halcyon was breathing heavily from the outburst. The two stared for a long moment with Vogel sending worried glances toward his employer.

"Now," a low, dangerous growl. David didn't let the worry show on his face though it was a challenge. "Get out."

"Yes sir," quiet and respectful David turned to leave the room.

"Xanatos," David tried not to think too much about the way his shoulders stiffened as he obediently came to a halt though he didn't grace the old man with a look. "Have fun with your new toys."

(Line break)

He was in a particularly foul mood when Myra planted herself in the chair across from him. The break room was far more favorable to her than the cafeteria and David was finding that it was a far more agreeable place when he found himself on the edge of making poor career decisions. That Myra was usually there with calming words was either a side benefit or the whole reason for his choice in venue. He never stopped to think about it too much.

"So," the woman made no effort to pretend to be doing anything other than waiting for David to share his feelings like a child to his mother. The dark haired man sighed into his hand.

"I got exactly what I wanted," he said shortly. Myra nodded. "It worked out almost perfectly and then..." he made a vague gesture and dropped his hands."I don't know. I shouldn't have been surprised. Everyone knows that Renard watches out for him like a son."

"Alright," Myra nodded. "So why did you push your luck?"

"Because I-" David broke off. How did she know what he was talking about? Maybe she didn't and was just playing the part of a willing listener. Maybe the entire building knew about the shouting match in Renard's office that David had lost horribly. More likely the context clues were all there and David just hadn't noticed how perceptive the older woman could be. "Owen is useful," David finally said to fill the silence. Myra nodded. "He... I enjoy working with him."

"I thought we all agreed that he doesn't like you," she said gently. David didn't point out that Myra herself had argued that Owen couldn't possibly dislike _anyone_, never mind having a personal dislike for David.

"He probably doesn't. But I enjoy his company."

"Well... then what's the problem?" David stared.

" 'What's the-' Myra, Renard warned me off like I was a teenager with a van trying to pick up his daughter," David didn't think too hard about the fact that Renard hadn't been anywhere near as protective of Janine since that was likely due to the older man not knowing the extent of their interactions.

"Mhmm," she chose that moment to get up and get herself a cup of coffee. David knew by then to wait patiently for her to return to the table before expecting the conversation to continue. "We - and when I say 'we' I mean the older office ladies, myself included - like to think of Owen as... just a boy," the woman settled back in her chair and set down her mug.

"Right..." David was having a hard time seeing how that had anything to do with his current situation.

"I suspect that you and Renard have a similar view," she paused, giving David a long look. Fully prepared to argue that fatherly instincts or whatever Myra was implying had nothing to do with it, David opened his mouth just in time for the woman to shush him and continue. "The fact of the matter is that Owen Burnett is a grown man. Not a very old one, I'll admit, but he's old enough to make his own choices."

"I agree," David said heartily, scowl firmly in place. Myra shook her head at him, very much amused.

"Well, then what's the problem?" she repeated. David frowned.

"I told you. Renard-"

"Mr. Renard nothing. Owen is a grown man that makes his own choices and makes his own schedule," she smiled at David's look. "You didn't know that did you? After clean up got underway Owen was put directly under Mr. Vogel who doesn't give a rat's behind about what Owen does as long as he's in the building being productive for eight hours a day. Now, you've got two choices. Appeal to Mr. Vogel who will agree with Mr. Renard or... talk to the man who makes the schedule."

(Line Break)

"When you've finished filing those records _correctly_, you can begin cleaning up your workspace. Personal items are perfectly acceptable. Trash and disorganization are not."

The intern, a little slip of a girl who could not have been a day over nineteen, muttered something under her breath that might have been "yes, Mr. Burnett" but was just as likely "insufferable bastard" before hurrying away, files pressed to her chest like she thought they would explode if they were not properly compressed. Owen, apparently not realizing he had an audience, dropped his head to his chest and sighed.

"Management not your cup of tea?" David asked brightly. Owen's shoulders stiffened just enough to let David know that Owen really hadn't known he was there.

"Not particularly sir," Owen turned, lifting his head to meet David's gaze. "I've a preference for research."

"Funny. I've always preferred being in charge of people. Perhaps you'd like to switch jobs?" David gave the blond a joking wink that the other man apparently decided to ignore.

"Hardly appropriate sir. As it is I'm only stepping in because it seems no one else wanted the pleasure of setting Ms. Harker straight."

"Well I doubt you'll have to worry about her anymore," Owen wasn't going to tolerate the small talk for much longer, that much David was certain of. "Actually Owen I- this will sound silly but I was wondering if I could get your help with something."

Owen tilted his head at the other man, curiosity or permission to continue. David smiled.

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><p>End Note: Not a particularly good Chapter for which I apologize. Review. Please. In all honesty it does make writing easiermore fun for me.


	13. Informaton Freely Given

In the Beginning

Summary: In the beginning, Owen genuinely disliked David Xanatos.

A/N: In the end I had to go write some porn to get the smut-bunnies out of my system and some fluff to get the fluff bunnies settled and then some other stuff generally not belonging to this fandom before continuing this. Hopefully they won't take up residence again.

Warning: Language and bad grammar (beware for I've a love for run on sentences and the misuse of hyphens).

Spoilers: Vows mostly.

Disclaimer: Gargoyles… _Disney… Buena Vista… Greg Weisman… not me._

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><p>Chapter 12: In Which Information is Freely Given<p>

It wasn't that David couldn't do it alone. He could do it alone and could probably do it better by himself. That wasn't what this was about.

"Ouch," David held up his hand in the dim light and frowned at the paper cut he'd just given himself. Wordlessly Owen held up a handkerchief from where he was crouching. "Thank you."

David had wanted help because sorting through the boxes that made up the Archives ostensibly to clean out obsolete files and reorganize the others was a tedious way to spend the day and Owen seemed adept at doing tedious tasks. In reality he was doing it to try and locate the rest of the project Renard had given him ("given" his ass, it had cost more than a pretty penny) because, as Renard had put it, if David wanted it that bad he could just go dig it out himself and Owen had an eye for subtle details.

The whole process - dragging out a box that looked vaguely useful, digging through the files only to find the box was mislabeled or that half the files belonged somewhere else, gathering up the misplaced files and finding the appropriate box for them only to realize absolutely none of them were what he was looking for - had David feeling vaguely annoyed and was giving him flashbacks to his first high school research paper. Owen seemed unaffected, though he was getting a lot of dust on his trousers.

"Kind of reminds me of high school," David said because Owen seemed more than happy to spend the next few hours the way they had the last thirty minutes: in complete silence.

"I wouldn't know sir," Owen muttered distractedly, digging through the pile of files that they'd ended up dumping on the floor. It was less organized than Owen would have liked, clearly, but David had preferred to have it all sitting out in front of him and it was fun to watch Owen glare at him every time David upended another box of files on the already considerable pile. "I attended a private school. We didn't study like this."

"Oh?" David turned to the younger man, interest piqued. The blond was kneeling, his shirt sleeves pushed up past the elbows. David considered that it was the most natural he'd ever seen the young man look. Owen made a faintly agreeable noise and yanked a folder from the pile, giving it a quick once over before discarding it again.

"My father expected me to be a doctor from the start, or a lawyer if I didn't develop the aptitude, so he worked to give me every advantage."

"Ah," that certainly explained some of Owen's odd past. "How'd he take it when you chose to work for Renard instead?"

"We haven't spoken in three years," Owen's voice was neither choked nor dismissive. Either the blond was very good at hiding how he felt about the situation or he'd come to terms with it long ago. Still, David found himself frozen, looking for something sensitive to say, maybe to confide in the blond about his own father. Owen sat upright and interrupted David's mental ramblings by holding up a thin blue folder. "Found it."

(Line Break)

The Archives room was temperature controlled because even though Renard had more or less let the department fade into the background that was no reason to risk losing valuable data before it could be digitalized. Since it was technically David's job to clean up the basement and deal with the mess he and - strictly by association - Owen had made, he sent the young blond back to his desk with instructions to add the blue file to the growing stack.

It took another three hours just to get all the files they'd disturbed to their proper place and by the end of it David was dirty and - despite the excellent air conditioning system - sweaty. He returned to his desk annoyed but over all very hopeful that, surely, after all that his day could not possibly get worse.

Owen, having replaced his jacket and cleaned up a bit, was sitting at David's computer, fingers flicking over the keyboard with nothing less than a self-assured grace. Blue eyes glanced up at him briefly as the darker man approached before returning to the monitor. Despite the fact that there was no logical reason for Owen to be seated at David's desk, using his computer, no alarm bells rang off in the darker man's head. Owen was about as relaxed as he ever was; posture straight and had not seemed surprised or discomforted at David's appearance. Nothing to worry about.

"Hey," David stopped at the side of his desk and reached, rather rudely, across it and through Owen's line of sight to grab a Kleenex. The typing didn't so much as pause. "So," David ran the tissue across his face and frowned at the dirty streaks it took off him before discarding it in the trash can. "Thank you for the help. There's still another forty or so boxes to deal with but I think-" Owen's right ring finger smacked the enter key with more force than was strictly necessary and lines of text began scrolling across the screen. David couldn't help but glance at the monitor and when he realized what he was looking at his blood ran cold.

David was not so foolish as to keep his private work on a CyberBiotics computer; certainly not after the damage done by the fire. He did have, however, a very secure folder dedicated to random notes he needed to leave himself as the ideas and thoughts came to him at the office. The folder was regularly dumped onto floppy disks and removed from the computer. No harm, no foul.

Of course David understood that there was no way to completely erase something from a computer; you could only disguise it and bury it deep. Owen had somehow broken into the folder, surpassing passwords and dead ends and all the other tricks David had used to hide the folder's information and the "deleted" work from before. Owen sat back, expression impassive.

_Shit_.

"Owen," David's voice was low, calm and very much in control. Owen turned his head ever so slightly, meeting his gaze with a faint twitch of his lips. "It would appear that you've stumbled across a private project of mine."

It was several projects actually, including the plans for his own company and several... borrowed weapons designs that David intended to improve upon. The seated blond gave a brief nod as though he really had just 'stumbled' across some sensitive information by chance instead of the dedicated search that had to have occurred for him to have found it.

"It would seem so sir," Owen pushed up his glasses.

"I did ask you to stop that," David said mildly. Owen's lips twitched again and he moved his hand to lightly nudge the frames into place with forefinger and thumb. "Well, I suppose-"

"Permission to speak freely, Mr. Xanatos?" Owen interrupted what was going to be a quiet, elegantly worded threat that would, to an outside listener, seem completely innocuous. David paused.

"Of course Owen," he recovered with a faint smirk. "This isn't the military."

"Then, if I might be so bold, your timeline seems overly cautious," of all the many things that Owen could have said - including an outraged statement involving David's parentage, a call for Mr. Renard and Vogel, and a blackmail attempt - that was the one thing David was not ready for. He blinked.

"You think so?" he asked after a moment. Owen returned his attention to the screen.

"You seem to be working under the assumption that you'll be starting a second company from scratch," David looked over his shoulder to check that no one was listening in on their conversation. There were few others on the floor and those few were all clearly preoccupied. "It would be far more advantageous if you were to... court some of the older, more personable employees here and take them with you to form a solid foundation for the new company. Training time for new employees would be cut nearly in half and production could begin almost immediately."

"More personable employees like... say, you?" David suggested with raised eyebrows. Owen's twitching lips very clearly formed a small smirk this time.

"Few would call me that sir."

"Even fewer would call you an older employee," David nodded. Owen was the one to pause this time, hands hovering over the keyboard. After a moment longer the fingers descended and the rapid fire typing started once again.

"If I were you," Owen frowned slightly at the screen and smacked a key with an excessive amount of force. The text changed and the frown cleared. "I would begin with Mrs. Jones and Ms. Pince as neither of them are entirely happy working for Mr. Renard - or rather, working under Mr. Vogel - and both already seem quite fond of you."

"We've developed a pleasant understanding," David agreed, watching as lines of text began to disappear from the screen. One after another, notes that he had carefully buried under a pile of code and firewalls disappeared under better codes and better firewalls. David had to make a real effort to keep his expression blank despite being equal parts impressed and alarmed at the blond's skill. "And you?"

"I'm sorry?" Owen was, David was sure, pretending to have misunderstood the direction their conversation had just taken. David humored the blond with a smile.

"I consider you quite the asset Owen, as does Mr. Renard. You would be an excellent addition to the team you've just suggested. However I understand that you're well settled here with Renard and Vogel," David paused significantly but Owen didn't look away from his typing. "Should I be courting you Owen?"

"That is entirely up to you, sir," a few more delicate taps and the screen cleared. Owen stood and straightened his jacket. David stepped back to give the blond room to leave the low walled cubicle. "I will say that if you do, your timeline will shift significantly and you'll be able to leave CyberBiotics at the end of this fiscal year," Owen slipped past him, somehow managing not to make any contact with the other man despite the small space. "You will, however, find that I am not so easy to charm as a certain pair of ladies."

David felt his eyebrows jump in surprise as he watched the younger man depart.

"Was that a challenge?" he asked under his breath, knowing full well what the answer was.

(Line Break)

Thursday mid-morning found David in the break room, sitting opposite a familiar pair. Subtlety would do him no good here; not with the shrewd eyed and clever women.

"So..." David smiled at the two women. Belinda raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow while Myra quietly smiled back. "Hypothetically if I were to start an advanced technology production company and, hypothetically, needed a Human resources Supervisor with prior experience and a front desk receptionist..."

"Hypothetically," Belinda quipped. David grinned and raised his hands in a calming gesture.

"Hypothetically of course," he turned a hopeful, puppy-dog eyed look to the older of the two. "Would you have any suggestions?"

Myra and Belinda shared a long look.

"We wouldn't be able to talk about CyberBiotics," Belinda started slowly.

"We wouldn't betray Mr. Renard's confidence like that," Myra interjected fiercely. The younger woman rolled her eyes.

"And it'd be a breach of contract even if we wanted to."

"And I would never ask that of you," David leaned forward, arms folded on the table. "I'm talking about a new start. New building, new work load, new rules..." he paused significantly. "And a new starting salary. Hypothetically."

"Hypothetically, huh?" Belinda grinned at him. "We'd say yes."

"Excellent."

David knew better than to discuss specifics or to try the little 'hypothetically speaking' game with anyone else. He'd ingratiated himself with enough of the lab scientists that he didn't think he would need to do much more than ask when the time came. Besides, the end of the fiscal year was a ways away and there were more immediate things to consider.

He spent the afternoon in Archives. The work was tedious but since visitors were few and far between David felt no obligation to sort more than a few dozen files before skirting his duty in favor of poking through the boxes in search of more of the abandoned weaponry and medical research. He didn't resurface until half an hour before his work day was over and spent the remaining time searching for Owen.

When he finally found the blond it was in the most incongruous place he could have imagined. If he hadn't been walking past that particular supply closet at that exact moment, David would have missed him entirely.

"What the _hell_-" Owen's head snapped up at the exclamation. David felt his voice dying in his throat as the blond looked at him as though David were the strange one. "...were you doing in there?"

"Searching for an overhead projector sir," Owen's response was calm and said in a perfectly reasonable tone that made David doubt himself when he started to ask why the blond had had the door shut. "It's not important, did you need something?"

"It... ah, it's Thursday..." Owen blinked at him. "Janine... dinner...?" Recognition finally dawned on the blond's face. "She's coming to meet us here. I thought you'd like the heads up."

"Ah, yes. Thank you sir," Owen turned and David found himself following - _following_, like a lost puppy or something - the other man back out toward the main work area. It took a ridiculous amount of will to keep from feeling resentful about the fact that Owen had had his desk are returned to him in perfect condition almost immediately after the smoke had cleared while David was still awkwardly stuck in a corner.

It took five minutes of watching Owen carefully restack files and arrange his pens in a perfect line in the desk drawer before David realized that the blond was actually _stalling_.

"Owen," his voice was sharp and the blond obediently looked up. None too subtly David looked down at his wristwatch. "Perhaps we should start heading down?" It was less of a question and more of an impatient demand. Owen didn't argue and was half way past the older man before David realized that Janine wouldn't be overly happy with the suit and tie look they were both sporting.

It should be noted that while no one would accuse David of being particularly physical with other employees they also wouldn't hesitate to say that yes, David Xanatos would absolutely grab someone and forcibly strip them if he felt it were necessary.

Which he did.

"What-" It was the first time David had ever seen Owen stumble (or do anything lacking in perfect grace and precision, really) but in his defense David had snatched off his jacket from behind while the blond was in mid-step.

"It's a warm day, I doubt you need this," David went for dismissive and casual, as though stealing Owen's jacket were a perfectly normal thing for him to do. "There's no tag," David noted as he started to drop it over the back of Owen's desk chair.

"It's tailored," Owen's statement probably couldn't have gotten any stiffer. The darker man wondered mildly if the real reason Owen didn't have furniture was because he spent all his money on carefully tailored suits. And then, because David was childish and annoyed at Owen for delaying but mostly because he wanted to see what would happen, he carelessly tossed the jacket down onto the seat of Owen's chair.

Owen's entire body twitched. Heh.

"I don't suppose you have a casual shirt under that?" David asked doubtfully as he looked over Owen's stark white dress shirt. Apparently realizing where this line of questioning was headed Owen took a sharp step back into the hall. Silly man should have realized a larger distance would be required. "No? Oh well."

"Mr. Xanatos!" It wasn't quite a shout but it was a lot worse than "annoyed". David ignored him and forced the other man's tie loose and over his head. "This is highly-" A pale white hand darted out faster than David had predicted it would and caught his wrist in a vise hard grip before he could start unbuttoning. David managed not to wince. "_Stop touching me_," it was as close to a growl as David imagined Owen could even get and the warning was clear.

"Right," David didn't apologize for the extreme breech of personal space but then he didn't imagine that Owen expected him to. "I trust you can take care of that yourself?" Owen glared. He'd never seen Owen do that before. David took note of the narrowed eyes and clenched jaw while trying not to flinch. It was an almighty weapon, Owen's glare. He was glad that it wasn't used more often. A pale hand lifted and the top of the shirt was opened with a smooth gesture. David knew better than to expect more. "Fantastic, lets head down, shall we?"

There was no answer but David could feel Owen behind him as he headed to the elevator. It was a small victory.

* * *

><p>AN: this chapter never seemed to end. Unfortunately I've reached the end of the prewritten chapters (you guys know what I mean. Write three chapters ahead as a buffer so updates can be semi-regular) which means delays will be longer and more frequent as you lot wait for truly fresh updates.


	14. Dates and Other Social Disasters

In the Beginning

Summary: In the beginning, Owen genuinely disliked David Xanatos.

A/N: On top of running out of pre-written chapters my computer epically crashed (totally my fault) and I lost all my work from the last long-fricken-time (for those of you keeping track, I've lost everything I've done since updating chapter 5 _the first time_) that wasn't safely located somewhere on the interwebz. Lucky for you, that means I only lost a sentence and a half of this chapter since that's all I'd had written. So that's my excuse for the wait and this piddly little thing here.

Warning: Language and bad grammar (beware for I've a love for run on sentences and the misuse of hyphens).

Spoilers: Vows mostly.

Disclaimer: Gargoyles… _Disney… Buena Vista… Greg Weisman… not me._

* * *

><p>Chapter 13: Dates and Other Social Disasters<p>

As he'd suspected Janine was in no way, shape or form pleased with him by the time he and Owen got to the lobby but was hiding it well in the presence of her guest. Tiffany, bless her little heart, apparently hadn't known how to dress for the occasion and was awkwardly fiddling with a silver bangle bracelet that didn't quite go with her blue dress.

At least the overall effect came across as casual; Owen looked something like a funeral director who'd taken off his tie and jacket in preparation for heavy lifting.

"Fox," David smiled and bowed his head for the inevitable air kisses. Janine's smile was considerably cooler. "I hope you two weren't waiting long?"

"David," she leaned forward and put her lips close to his ear. "Took you long enough."

Any response to that would have been a bad one so David wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.

Beside them Owen was nodding vaguely at the brunette across from him and she, in return, was smiling faintly.

No. _No._ They couldn't both be socially stunted or this wasn't going to work. David gave Janine a worried look but she was already dealing with the problem.

Moving to Tiffany's side, the redhead nudged the other woman forward a step.

"Ms. Renard," Owen greeted as warmly as he ever greeted anyone.

"Owen I've told you, it's Janine," her lips twitched a little. "Or Fox if you'd prefer," Owen actually scowled at that and David had to squash a laugh that threatened to turn a less than ideal situation into a genuinely bad one. "You remember Tiffany?"

"Of course," Owen reached out a hand and it took Tiffany a moment to take it. The shake was brisk and business-like. David sighed. "How is your research coming?"

"Slowly," the brunette smiled a little more brightly. "My partner in crime and I had a little difference of opinion so now I'm focusing on electrochemicals alone while he spins his wheels."

"Shame."

(LINE BREAK)

David had assumed, rather naturally, that if he weren't allowed to sit in silence Owen would naturally try to focus his attention on Janine the way he had in every single instance that the three of them had been alone together.

To counter-act that likelihood they sat at a booth so Janine and David could subtly get the two seated across from each other and against the wall so that neither had the opportunity to flee easily.

David was feeling exceptionally sneaky and very clever right up to the point when he discovered Owen had very sharp elbows.

"Ow!" David hissed as one of the fore mentioned appendages made contact with his ribs apparently on accident. Owen murmured what could have been an insincere apology or smug mocking.

"So Owen," Janine smiled pleasantly. "How's work going?"

"Well enough," Owen glanced at the menu and pushed it aside. "All projects are on hold until the fire damage has been repaired and many of us," he paused to nod slightly to David "have been reassigned to unsatisfactory positions until things return to normal."

"Or whatever passes for it at Cyberbiotics," David grinned. "So Tiffany, what was that about you working with Electrochemicals?"

"Oh I don't know if I should be talking to you boys about that," Tiffany had apparently warmed up a bit and was grinning slyly. "You might try to steal my research for Cyberbiotics."

"What, us?" David over played his innocence and Janine laughed. "No no, I'm just a lowly file clerk in the Archives department."

"Oh how the mighty have fallen," Janine teased before turning to Owen. "And you, Mr. Burnett? They say it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for," Owen finished sipping his water and shrugged mildly.

"Management," he said blandly. "I wouldn't even know who to give the information to."

David doubted that. Luckily that particular conversation was stopped in its tracks as the waiter came to take their orders. Owen ended up asking for the same fried fish plate that David ordered while the two ladies asked for salads.

"Watching my figure," Janine said with a smile.

"If you watch it any more carefully you might disappear completely," David teased. Janine gave him a sweet look and, apparently forgiving his earlier tardiness, reached across the table to take his hand.

Beside him, Owen cleared his throat pointedly. With a sigh and a slightly worried look, Janine let go.

"And what about you?" David went on cheerfully, pretending that Owen's interruption hadn't been nearly as annoying as it actually was by looking around him to the young brunette. "Don't tell me a little wisp like you is watching your weight."

"Vegetarian, actually," the brunette explained. Oh. David had nothing against vegetarianism, though he certainly couldn't see the reason for it, and wasn't entirely sure where to go with that as a conversation starter.

Oddly enough, Owen saved him.

"Oh?" the blond rested his chin on his fist and David eyes widened ridiculously at the sight of Owen's suddenly relaxed posture. "For health or moral reasons?" Tiffany did an odd combination of flushing and brightening up at the question. It was highly likely that the admission cut a lot of conversations short for her.

"Health. I'm all for not brutally murdering God's creatures, particularly the cute ones," Owen made a faint noise of agreement. "But I've really only had a handful of meat dishes that I've genuinely liked and I've always felt a bit ill afterwards."

"You may have developed an intolerance by now," Owen noted. Tiffany frowned questioningly at him. "Studies have shown that many vegetarians stop producing the enzymes required to break down animal products after a few months of forgoing meat."

And the conversation continued. Without Janine or David needing to help it along. David sat back and gave Janine an astonished look. He'd expected that Tiffany would completely take over the conversation or that he and Janine would need to baby Owen along to keep things going. Judging from the look on her face the redhead was just as surprised as he.

No longer feeling obliged to watch after the younger man, David shrugged and struck up his own conversation, in low tones, with Janine about her plans for the rest of the year. That kept them occupied until food arrived and their quiet conversation was interrupted by a louder exclamation.

"Really?" Tiffany was leaned over her salad toward Owen who was giving her a mildly bemused look and nodding. "I _love _Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush."

Owen chose not to answer in favor of taking a bite of his fish. The brunette across from him needed little in the way of encouragement, apparently.

"That's so wild," David blinked. It was the first slip into common slang he'd heard from any of Janine's acquaintances. "At school it's like people only like one or the other. Isn't that weird? And Kate Bush fans tend to be... well you know."

Owen made a mild noise that was probably agreement and returned his attention to his fish. Tiffany for her part didn't seem deflated or offended by Owen's apparent disinterest and, still smiling, turned her attention to her salad.

(LINE BREAK)

"Well Fox," David held out his arm and Janine, grinning, took it. "I'd say this went splendidly. Don't you agree?"

"It was fantastic," she nodded, glancing back to watch Owen help his date up from her seat. Grinning triumphantly Janine lead the way out to the side-walk. "So," she waited for Owen and Tiffany to catch up with them. "What next? Ice cream? A nice, moonlit walk?"

Owen glanced at his watch and David could tell what was coming without the blond saying anything and he knew that it would not be taken well by either of the women with them.

So he beat the blond to it.

"Actually, my dear," he gave Janine his most regretfully sincere smile and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Owen and I have an early start at the office tomorrow. Such is the price one pays for a lovely dinner on a week night, I'm afraid."

"Oh that's too bad," Tiffany pouted but didn't cajole and beg like some women might have. Janine sighed.

"I guess there's no helping it," she nudged David's side. "Let's get a cab then, I wouldn't want Daddy mad at you again."

David could have told her that Halcyon was always mad at him and that her concerns were therefore unfounded but since that would likely only make her hit him, the dark haired man hailed a cab and kept his mouth shut.

The cab they got, while large enough for all four to squeeze into, was unfortunately not so large that they had a great deal of space to work with. Thus David was re-acquainted with Owen's painfully sharp elbow. Frequently.

"You alright David?" Janine asked from her relatively comfortable spot by the door. David could have sworn that when they'd lined up to get in the cab the redhead had been beside him but now, somehow, she and Tiffany were on the other side of Owen from him and if he didn't know any better he'd say the blond were looking quite pleased with himself.

"I'm just-" Owen shifted and drove his elbow into David's stomach. Again. "Ugh."

Janine, clearly about to ask why David kept making that face and looking vaguely ill, was interrupted as the girl beside her leaned forward and gave the partition between the four of them and the cab driver a sharp tap.

"This is me," the brunette gave Owen an apologetic look as she jostled him while trying to get at her purse.

"I'll take care of it," the blond said unexpectedly after another few moments of Tiffany fumbling with her purse. David tried, and failed to keep his eyebrows from leaping to his hair-line. Fox busied herself with opening her door and stepping out to allow her friend to get home.

"I ah... It was fun," face bright red the young brunette froze for a moment before giving Owen a hurried kiss on the cheek.

The blond was saved from having to come up with a response to the gesture as Tiffany darted out of the cab and onto the side walk.

Janine did a graceful slide and a brief shimmy and settled back into her seat and shut the door with a snap.

"Her roommates," the red head said conspiratorially as Owen gave the cab driver her address "are going to grill her mercilessly. She never goes out, just about. Certainly not on week nights."

"Poor girl," David settled back in his seat. Owen, having apparently only pressed close to David in order to keep his sight of Janine restricted, shifted noiselessly away from the other man. David chose not to pay any attention to whether the blond pressed closer to Janine or simple moved to make more room between himself and the older man.

The rest of the ride was spent, at least for David, in relative discomfort. His charming, clever and frankly cruel Fox spent the next ten minutes cheerfully chatting with the blond on her left about the current fashions and latest movies. Owen, while in no way contributing to the conversation with anything more than a scant few "I sees" and "That sounds fascinatings" seemed quite happy to sit there and discourage David from engaging the redhead.

It was like, David found himself musing silently as he watched the two out of the corner of his eye, a protective brother who was too well mannered to just punch the young ruffian that was after his baby sister.

Which was disconcerting in its own special way, he supposed.

"Daddy's home," Janine made a face at the brightly lit front windows of her house. "Stop around the corner please?"

Apparently used to young ladies out with young men without their fathers' permission, the driver didn't comment.

"One of these days," David smiled as he pulled the necessary bills from his wallet. His smile disappeared as Owen, also trying to get at his wallet, elbowed him in the ribs. "Ouch," he said deliberately, pinning Owen with a look. Or at least he tried to pin him, the blond seemed blissfully unaware that he'd done anything wrong. "One of these days, I'm going to be allowed to show up outside your house without fear of your father."

"One of these days," Janine grinned at him as she slid out of the car, "you won't need Owen to walk me to my door on your behalf."

David watched, a flare of anger bubbling up in his chest, as Owen slid out of the car after the redhead and let her take his arm.

"Then perhaps one day," Owen pushed his glasses up his nose with his middle finger and David's eyes narrowed at the blond, "Mr. Xanatos won't glare at me for doing it."

The darker man practically fell out of the car in his hurry to catch up to the laughing redhead and her smug escort.

"Stop pouting," Janine made Owen stop walking long enough for David to catch up and with a nudge, the redhead took David's arm in her free one and they started off again. "I think tonight went really well."

David decided not to point out that it would have been perfect other than the bit where Tiffany left and Owen went back to his old trick of showering Janine with attention. Well. Owen's version of showering someone with attention anyway.

"It was a pleasant evening," Owen conceded with a slight incline of his head. It was a compliment directed at Janine. David didn't scowl but it took some effort.

"So I guess Ms. Tiffany can expect second date?" David asked cheerfully. It was, apparently, the wrong thing to say.

Owen came to an abrupt halt, which pulled Janine to a stop and then finally David. The blond pinned the other two with a cool look.

"Do you mean to tell me," he started in a deliberately calm voice and David had to hold back a shiver "that this was meant to be a..." Owen seemed at a loss for words for a moment. He gestured vaguely between the three of them. "Some sort of double date?"

Janine gave David a mildly concerned look before hugging Owen's arm closer to her. The blond's eyes narrowed.

"Well, sort of. Yes," she gave him her best innocent-little-girl look. Owen's mouth pressed into a thin line.

"And the lunch I spent with Cody Johanson discussing molecular chemistry was also meant to be a date?" David hadn't known Cody's last name but at least he now knew where Owen had been rushing off to for lunch.

"Well I wouldn't exactly call molecular chemistry a hot date lunch topic but perhaps Mr. Johanson has some unique turn o- ow!" Half way through his sentence Janine had pulled her arm free of his and decided to stomp on David's foot with her very sharp heel to keep him from digging his grave any deeper. When David's eyes stopped watering enough to get a good look at Owen's face he decided he ought to thank her for it later.

"What David meant," Janine said carefully, sending a sharp look in David's direction "is that we thought you might like to get out and... It just seems like you work so hard," Janine put a hand on Owen's shoulder.

"I don't see what my work load has to do with it," the blond gave the young woman's hand a long look before turning his attention to David, eyes slightly narrowed.

"Don't be mad at David, it was just as much my idea," Janine stepped to the right so that Owen would have to make a fair effort to see over or around her at David. "We just wanted you to get out and have a good time. It was wrong for us to set you up like this," Janine used a small, soft voice and Owen - who'd redirected his narrowed gaze to the hedge separating them from Janine's front lawn - focused on her face again. "Sorry."

It took a long, long moment, but the tension in Owen's shoulders slowly released and his gaze softened.

David tried not to be angry at how readily the blond forgave Janine. Especially when the darker man knew damn well the office would not be a good place for him to be in the morning.

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><p>AN: After all the one shots I used to re-direct the bunnies, I'm finding it surprisingly difficult to transition back from "Fox" to Janine. So apologies for any of those sorts of continuity mistakes. I am trying to avoid them. The music selection is for the same reason as the book selection. It makes sense (in my mind) that "Owen" would like whimsical music the same way he likes magical realism. And for you clever readers out there, yes the lunch David and Owen refer to is the one from chapter 10 which will clue you in on how long ago this was 1) planned and 2) supposed to be posted.

Please Review to remind me why I should be writing this.


	15. The Trouble With Assumptions

In the Beginning

Summary: In the beginning, Owen genuinely disliked David Xanatos.

A/N: Something new to (hopefully) help the bunnies along. I want you lot to review with cameo ideas. That's right, existing characters from the show showing up in this story. I figure it could take up the places where my outline is kind of thin (or eaten- see end notes) and help move things along. Sound good to you? Great.

Resubmitted with (hopefully) fewer of my 2am typos.

Disclaimer: So utterly not mine. Like you have no idea (actually, if you've been paying attention you might...)

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><p>Chapter 14: The Trouble with Assumptions<p>

David woke up knowing it would be a bad day.

A lot of that feeling came from the utterly silent (and fairly terrifying) cab ride back to his apartment the night before. Owen said a lot with his silences. Most of it wasn't very nice. The rest of the feeling came from the raging headache he'd apparently developed in the middle of the night.

Once he decided that the world was not, in fact, ending and that all he needed was some Anacin, the dark man dragged himself out of bed, dressed and was half way out his door when he realized that his wrist watch was telling him he had another two hours to spare while his alarm clock was insisting that he was late.

Yes. Bad day.

David got to the Cyberbiotics building and promptly collapsed at his desk. Having taken it without breakfast the anacin had made him sick - like he would have known it would, had he stopped to think about it - and he was now in the odd position of being too jittery to sit still and too nauseous to actually do anything more energetic than sit and feel sorry for himself. Also? The anacin hadn't done a damn thing for his head.

He had forms to fill out, he realized as he stared bleakly at the pile that had appeared on his desk sometime that morning or the night before. He opened the drawer where he kept his favorite pens and dug around.

He was in the middle of trying to sort out how it was he felt like he needed to throw up when there was nothing in his stomach to come up when he realized he'd been digging around in the drawer for five minutes and had yet to come back with anything more exciting than a paperclip.

David stopped digging, looked down into the drawer and dropped his head onto his desk with a whimper. He heard soft, steady footfall going past his temporary desk and he didn't have to look. He just _knew_.

"Owen," the footsteps stopped, backtracked and came to stop beside him. David looked up at the raised blond eyebrow that bore down at him. "Did you take away all my pens?"

Blue eyes blinked for a moment before the face they were attached to arranged itself in a manner that successfully conveyed that the owner thought David was some sort of idiot.

"Why," the blond started slowly, as though worried David had lost the ability to understand basic english "would I take your pens?" David dropped his head onto his folded arms and decided to stay that way until someone told Renard and he was fired.

"Because you hate me," David's voice muttered into the fabric over his arm. He could feel the stare Owen was gracing him with. It made his shoulder blades itch.

"Are you _drunk_?" came the final, incredulous question. David slowly rocked his head from side to side in a gesture that meant no but probably could have been taken as drunken assent.

David had heard of people with cool hands (usually he heard this from women who'd just returned from a doctor's visit) and had known a few in his day but the hand that proceeded to touch the back of his neck was _cold_.

The darker man shot upright and almost fell back over as the nausea caught up with him and his head protested. Above him Owen looked... genuinely surprised, as though David's reaction had caught him completely off guard. David might have examined that had he been less miserable but even if he had been able the look quickly reformed into one of thoughtfulness.

Looking away from the other man, Own let out a breath that had aspirations to grow up into a real sigh one day, turned on his heel and walked away.

David dropped his head into his arms again and figured his path to unemployment was being fast tracked.

A few minutes later there was a thud and rattle at the edge of his desk. David looked up enough to see that a steaming mug (mint tea, if the smell was anything to go by),a package of crackers and a bottle of aspirin had been dropped just within reach of him.

Leaning as far out of the cubicle space as he could without falling or making himself sick, he watched Owen disappear around a corner.

(Line Break)

"Owen thinks I'm an alcoholic," David announced, walking into the break room where Myra was throwing away her disposable lunch container and Belinda was preparing to head home for the day. The women took one look at David and promptly sat back down.

"Why on earth-" David raised a hand to cut off the woman's question and sat.

"He thinks I showed up to work with a raging hang-over and the actual reason I was sick is just stupid enough that he's going to think it's one of those excuses you hear on Alcoholics Anonymous PSAs," he resisted the urge to set his head on the table. "He thinks I went back to my apartment after our date and drank myself into a stupor."

"Whoa," Belinda sat back, hands up. David raised his eyebrows at her. "Stop right there. Now rewind. Why were you and Owen Burnett on a date?"

David stared at her for a good minute before a response formed in his still slightly muddled head.

"We weren't. I mean we were, but not with each other," no one said it was a good response. "We were on a date together, but with other people."

"David," Myra had that look on her face that meant she was going to be an understanding, supportive mother-figure whether he wanted her to be one or not. She leaned across the table and patted his hand affectionately. "It's alright, we won't judge you, dear."

"Not even that big of a surprise, really," Belinda tossed in her insensitive two cents and lifted a cola bottle (she hadn't had one a minute ago, David was sure) to her lips. David flailed his hands around. "Explains the ponytail anyways."

"I- What? He- I don't-"

"Really," Myra insisted in that far too understanding way she had. "It's all fine, David I just don't think... Owen probably isn't the type to-"

"No!" David finally slapped a hand on the table and the women shut their mouths, eyes wide. He took a deep, calming breath. "It was a double date with Janine. It wasn't..." he waved vaguely. "That. It's all fine, that's just not what it was."

Somehow this was even worse.

"You took Owen on a date with Janine _Renard_?" Belinda asked incredulously as though there were a whole lot of Janine's out there that he might have been talking about. She made a face. "Are you suicidal or just stupid?"

"I thought it was all just rumor," Myra said which was weird since it was neither an encouraging nor kind hearted statement. David blinked.

"What?" he was ignored.

"I can't believe Shelly was actually right for once," Belinda whistled, standing from the table. "You've either got the biggest, brass balls I've ever heard of-" Myra gave her a scandalized look but scandalized looks had never stopped the younger woman before. "Or you're dumber than you look Xanatos."

(Line Break)

David's headache and nausea had receded enough by early afternoon that he was capable of actually doing his job. Since Owen apparently hadn't mentioned David's impaired state to Renard or Vogel he was still employed, so David finished the massive stack of report forms and went back the basement to sift through the files.

While he'd kept his head carefully buried in the reports the office rumor mill had started up in earnest. on the way to Archives he caught himself eaves dropping on a number conversations he didn't actually want to hear and decided the best course of action was to hide in the basement until the day was over.

With any luck, no one had dared to say such things while Owen was in ear shot.

While sorting through musty boxes he played with the idea of calling and warning Janine exactly what the Cyberbiotics rumor mill had cooked up this time (if only to prepare her for when her father inevitably heard about it) and then spent another hour procrastinating and getting little in the way of any work done before he gave up and headed back up to his office.

He should have been alerted by the unusual density of people on that floor which - since the fire - usually remained relatively sparse. It wasn't until he came up to a small knot of people, looking very much like school children crowding close together to get the best look at a play ground fight, that he realized something was up.

His metaphor was unusually appropriate.

Owen was standing in that circle. David edged closer and pretend not to notice the looks and furtive whispers as the group made room for him.

David had seen the blond annoyed (almost every day, in fact), mad (just that night when he discovered he'd been tricked into a date) and furious (when David had put his hands on him in an effort to dress him down for the occasion) but the expression on his face now was so much worse.

The unfortunate recipient of the glare stood across from the blond, backed up against the edge of the crowd, red faced and looking like he wanted nothing more than for the floor to swallow him whole. The man, David realized with a start, was Harold, the forty-something floor supervisor and technically (though possibly not in reality) outranked Owen. It didn't seem to matter.

As he watched David saw Owen, still and silent as death, clench his jaw. After a minute Harold cleared his throat and straightened up from the slight slump he'd developed while standing there.

False bravado, David noted as the man straightened his tie and his thinning hair. All a show for the underlings around him. David didn't need to know what started the altercation to know that Harold had done something stupid (unsurprising) and Owen had responded in a way that a respectful underling shouldn't have (probably because underling was not the right word to use when referring to Owen). Harold needed to save face, had to defend himself and in doing so give Owen a thorough dressing down.

Judging from the look on Owen's face, the dressing down would be rather hard to accomplish.

"Well," the over weight and over paid man started, chin raised. When Owen didn't immediately react he continued on. "I suppose no one here is surprised, knowing _your_ reputation."

Owen didn't move. It filled the man with a false sense of security and he made the mistake of getting closer to the blond; to try and physically cow the younger man. David could have told him that was a bad idea.

"But I do wonder what Mr. Renard will think when he hears his daughter is involved in some sort of..." his hands moved helplessly as his limited vocabulary ran out on him. "Sort of _depraved_ threesome with his least favorite employee and our own little Golden B-" he never saw it coming.

To be fair, neither did anyone else.

Harold's head snapped back and he stumbled, hands going to his suddenly bloody face. No one had seen the first punch and - David noted with no small amount of alarm - Owen was already hauling back for a second.

"Mr. Burnett," David didn't raise his voice but he did catch the blond's wrist before he could follow through with the obvious threat. The cold, _angry_ blue eyes focused on David's brown ones and they looked at each other for all of one second before Owen relaxed his arm, allowing David to pull it down. "Come with me, please."

"Y-you..." a hard look from David shut the still bleeding man's mouth. Owen returned his gaze to Harold and for a moment David was worried the blond would refuse.

"Very well, sir," the young man gave his jacket a few sharp tugs to settle the lines of his suit back into place and David relaxed. It was premature. "If you ever besmirch Ms. Renard's name again I shall kill you."

And it was so matter-of-fact. Owen didn't sound deadly calm or angry or any other number of things that would have made sense. He sounded like he were idly commenting on the weather. From the look on Harold's - and everyone else's - face, the message was received.

With a look to the blond, David turned and lead the way back down to the (basement) Archives Department where they would at least have some semblance of privacy. Both men were coldly silent during the walk.

David waited for the door to close, shutting them into the dimly lit and musty space before turning to the blond.

"I will not apologize," Owen stated blandly before David could do more than open his mouth. David blinked. The blond had taken out his ever-present handkerchief and was dabbing at the knuckles of his right hand. Even in the poor light David could see the white cloth was coming away stained with red.

"I wasn't going to ask you to," David said after a moment. Owen paused in his dabbing but didn't look up. "They shouldn't be gossiping about their employer's daughter and he most certainly shouldn't have been trying to bully you in front of the others by confronting you about it."

Owen didn't respond for a long minute.

"Are you alright?" David finally asked when the silence started to feel oppressing.

"I cut my hand on his teeth," Owen made a face as he examined the hand in question and tucked away the stained slip of cloth. David didn't blame him; the human mouth (or at least _that_ human mouth) was disgusting. "I'll be fine."

"When he speaks to Renard-"

"He won't," Owen interrupted. David raised his chin. "Mr. Renard would demand to know what would cause me to react such a way. If Mr. Dorset refuses to give a straight answer Mr. Renard will question the people present at the incident, yourself included. If he learns what Mr. Dorset said the man will face severe punishment, the least of which would be the loss of his job," Owen paused. "I imagine Mr. Renard would commend me for my action," the blond made another face, this one far harder for David to read. "He'd likely find it... chivalrous of me."

David nodded slowly. Of course Owen would be absolved of blame. To be fair, David was of the strong opinion that Dorset deserved far worse than the bloody mouth (and likely lost teeth) he'd walked away with.

"The threat was rather melodramatic," David said into the empty air; a mild criticism.

"I meant every word," Owen's tone hadn't changed but the words somehow felt colder. David's eyes narrowed slightly.

"I don't doubt it," the darker man said lightly. "Well," he turned to face a shelf of files (one he'd already gone through and organized) and examined the labels. "I suppose this means Janine and I will have to be more careful when we-"

"Mr. Xanatos," Owen hadn't raised his voice but there was a steeliness to his tone that caught David's attention. He turned to face the blond. "I must ask you not to continue that particular vein of conversation in my presence."

There it was. David straightened his back and gave the blond a cool look of his own.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Burnett?" he asked, tone flat. Owen met his eyes and posture and raised him a solid step forward.

"Perhaps you've failed to notice," Owen's voice was low and controlled. David did not let himself swallow nervously. "But Ms. Renard is twenty years old and a good decade your junior, sir," it sounded like 'bastard' when he bit the three letter word out like that. David had hoped they were past this part.

"The last time I checked," David took a step forward of his own, stupidly putting himself well within punching distance of the other man "I hadn't been forcing her to spend time with me. It's a free country."

The set of Owen's jaw let David know more argument was coming so he spoke again before the blond could open his mouth.

"You had your chance, Mr. Burnett, and you missed it. If you feel so strongly, perhaps you should take it up with the lady in question. I'm sure her father would appreciate your-"

David saw Owen's fist clench and started to lean back.

"Janine Renard is a legal adult and may spend her time with whomever she damn well pleases," Owen snapped. David blinked in surprise and stopped leaning before he fell over. "But you, sir, are a thirty-two year old man slinking after the pretty young daughter of his employer and it has, based on office rumor and gossip alone, alienated you from a good third of Halcyon Renard's most loyal and dependable employees - employees it would have behooved you to be on good terms with before you left for your own business ventures."

David flinched.

"And more over, these early impressions will, as most do, follow you into the future. Do you really want your future business associates and rivals to know you as the Creepy Old Man before you've even gotten a fair start?" David winced again and remained silent. "No, I rather thought not."

Owen took another step, putting them nearly toe to toe.

"My advice to you," Owen's voice dropped another octave and David had to force himself to keep the other man's gaze, "is to be very, very cautious in how you proceed with fostering the relationship you're developing with Janine Renard."

It was like a light bulb went off in his head and David stared.

"You're concern is for propriety," Owen silently raised an eyebrow at him. "First concerning Renard and how it would appear if his daughter-" a narrowing of ice blue eyes stopped that sentence where it was. "And now you see me inadvertently fouling my own reputation and..." he stopped. "You aren't... personally interested in Janine at all."

It was always good to double check, especially since not checking had apparently led David very, VERY astray.

It was Owen's turned to stare.

"Certainly not," Owen pushed his glasses up his nose (middle finger, of course), tone clipped. David reached out to pat the younger man on the shoulder, intending to show no hard feeling on his side of the misunderstanding.

"Well Owen I-" Owen side stepped the touch and made his way back to the door that would let him out of the basement.

"Do not touch me with out permission again," the blond said flatly. The threat that what had happened to Harold would befall David if he did not heed the instructions went unsaid. But David knew it was there.

When he got to his desk he found his lamp and stapler had disappeared without a trace.

(Line Break)

David didn't call Janine until much later, after he'd gotten back to his apartment and collapsed on his couch.

"Janine."

_"Don't worry," _the redhead started without greeting. _"I told Daddy that I was out with Owen last night and you happened to be at the restaurant as well."_

Which, in her defense, wasn't an actual lie. An omission of several important truths, certainly, but not a lie.

He politely listened to her tell him how her boxing class - why she'd decided she'd wanted to take a boxing class was still far beyond David - had gone and the silly thing one of her acquaintances from acting class had done before telling her how his day went.

_"Is Owen alright?" _because of course that would be her first concern. David slumped down on the cream colored cushions and wished he'd picked it for comfort rather than style.

"Owen's fine. I saw Myra nursing his hand a few minutes after he left Archives."

_"What was he doing down in Archives? Daddy wouldn't want him wasting away down there."_

David ignored what was very likely an intentional jab at his own demotion and told her about his an Owen's little heart to heart. She laughed at him.

Loudly.

"It isn't funny," David protested after he felt like he'd waited a reasonable amount of time for the young woman to gain control of herself. His words set off the peals of laughter a second time. "He could have punched me!"

_"Y-you- pffffffftttttt," _Janine's laugh was, when she wanted it to be, musical and charming. Her snorting and chortling - what she used when in private and found something genuinely hilarious - was not.

"Are you finished?"

_"David!" _he was worried the exclamation was a sign she was going to start shrieking with laughter but the rest of the mocking was saved for her laughing tone. _"You asked him if he was _interested_ in me?"_

"I'd already gotten the wrong impression once," David defended. She snorted at him but didn't lose it completely. "I didn't want to make the same mistake twice."

_"David, what exactly did you think all our French chit chat was?" _she demanded suddenly. _"An exchange of lover's endearments?"_

"Well..."

_"La petite soeur means little sister,"_ David mulled over that for a long moment. _"He's been affectionately calling me his kid sister."_

"Well," David said decisively. "I'm fucked."

_"Considering how just unintentionally accused him of being incestuous?"_ Janine's tone was bright and cheerful. _"I'd say so, yes. Have fun with that."_

And then she hung up, because that was just the sort of day David was having.

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><p>AN: I shit you not, my dog ate part of my outline (this part, conveniently enough). Boredom? Anger? deep-seated hatred of paper? dunno, not a dog psychiatrist, but that was the first time she's ever gone after a whole notebook. Also, while writing this I couldn't help but feel something (a bit of continuity) was wrong. It eventually hit me and I totally fixed it.

Send your Cameo ideas in with the reviews.

Side Note: Anacin is a pain medication made of aspirin and caffeine which the internet tells me was mentioned in an episode of Family Guy and is still in production despite being, like, super old.


	16. Office Politics part 1

Summary: In the beginning, Owen genuinely disliked David Xanatos.

A/N: Revised for a rather serious continuity error that none of you wanted to tell me about (a bit unfair. It was only pointed out after a kind reviewer had rapid fire read everything Gargoyles that I've ever posted). Owen's age - at this point 22 - has been corrected. Sorry 'bout that. I really, really REALLY want to time jump to the bit where my outline picks up but doing so would skip a good chunk of character development which is, as we all know, not a good thing to skip.

Spoilers: few

Warnings: Still just language

Disclaimer: So utterly not mine. Like you have no idea (actually, if you've been paying attention you might...)

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><p>Chapter 15: Office Politics: A Beginning<p>

David spent the weekend working on plans to get him in good graces with Owen Burnett - difficult as he'd spent the last eight or so months failing to do just that - and to restore his apparently shoddy reputation with the rest of Cyberbiotics.

As Monday loomed closer David came to the conclusion that good behavior and the universal languages of money and charm would erase the Janine incident (or at least fade it) from the minds of all but the most loyal and persnikity of Halcyon's employees.

He also realized that there was not one damned thing he could do about Owen.

Accepting that fact, he told himself, was the first step in getting over it. Owen Burnett did not like him and there was nothing David could do about it. It felt like a weight had lifted from his shoulders.

Only to be replaced by an even heavier one.

Owen thought of Janine as a beloved younger sister and Janine, if nothing else, found that charming. David stared at his Sunday morning paper without actually seeing it.

David's (future) girlfriend's older brother hated him.

It was not a foreign concept to him - he'd gone to high school and been fairly popular among his peers - and in his experience older brothers, unlike disapproving fathers, tended to get their way.

David walked into work on Monday feeling very dejected and trying very hard not to show it.

(Line Break)

His desk was gone.

David blinked once, then twice and no. No matter how many times he blinked, no matter how much he stared, the place where his temporary desk should have been did not stop being empty.

He looked around for a moment, foolishly, as though perhaps he'd simply replaced it before he felt the first flush of anger spread through him.

This, he decided as he stalked across down the row of cubicles and sent others fleeing with the look on his face alone, had gone too far.

Owen did not seem to notice him approach, his attention fully captivated by whatever he had on his computer screen and that just made David angrier.

"Alright," he came to a stop by Owen's chair and, arms crosses, frowned down at the blond. "Where is it?"

Owen looked up and blinked at him.

"Sir?"

"I understand," David started, just barely keeping his voice in control "that we've had our disagreements and I understand that you are not my greatest fan at the moment," Owen frowned at him "but that is no reason to steal my desk. Now where is it?"

Owen stared. Honest to goodness 22-year-old-man-shocked-to-silence-by-the-stupidity-of-another-human-being _stared_ at him. David's jaw clenched.

"Your desk," Owen said slowly, double checking that he'd heard right.

"Yes," the darker man snapped back. "My desk. Where is it?"

Owen stared for a moment longer before turning his gaze back to his computer screen. He wasn't dismissing David;the blond's eyes were still flicking back and forth as if trying to follow the bizarre sequence of events that had led him to be sitting at his desk, listening to David accuse him of stealing a desk.

After a moment, Owen looked at him again.

"Have you checked your office?" he asked hesitantly. Now it was David's turn to stare.

"My what?"

"Office," Owen repeated patiently. As David watched the blond pressed his lips together in a way that suggested a suppressed smirk. "That seems..." Owen stopped, pressed his lips together and broke eye contact. Yes, David decided. Definitely laughing at him. "That seems like it would be the logical place to start looking."

"Owen," it was an exercise in patience, the way David managed not to start yelling. "What the Hell are you talking about?" the exercise was not entirely successful. "I haven't had an office since the fire."

Owen started frowning, but it was less "are you dumb?" and more "I am confused" so David didn't start screaming.

"Mr. Dorset lost his job Friday afternoon," came the non-sequitor. David blinked.

"Excellent," he said after a moment. "Now where's my desk?

"Mr. Dorset was fired," Owen turned his seat to look David dead on "and we needed a new floor supervisor," the two men stared at each other for a long minute. "You were promoted. On Friday. Mr. Vogel sent memos to everyone... except, apparently, you."

David looked at Owen for a long moment. Owen looked back.

David turned on his heel, walked the ten feet to Mr. Dorset's office, noted that yes, the name plate had been changed to _D. Xanatos_, and shut himself inside.

He didn't think Owen would laugh at him (out loud, at least) but having the door shut kept him from having to see the amusement in the usually steely blue eyes.

Exactly ten minutes later he opened the door again.

"Mr. Burnett," David was not amused. "My office, please. Now."

Owen obediently stood from his cubicle and let David snap the door shut behind him with no sign of worry. Why would he? He was Renard's Golden Boy. He could get away with anything.

"What have you done with my pens?" said point blank. Owen raised an amused eyebrow at him.

"Have you checked the pen holder?" he suggested in a tone just light enough for David to know he was being mocked. the darker man scowled.

"Cute," David bit out. Owen's lips twitched. "I've had to replace my pen set three times since coming to work here-"

"Perhaps you should take better care of your things," Owen's voice was just the other side of insubordination. David chose to ignore him.

"-and they always seem to go missing right after you and I have an altercation," David pinned him with a look. Owen didn't look concerned. "I wonder why that might be."

"**_Post hoc ergo propter hoc_**," Owen said dismissively. David's eyes narrowed.

"I'm glad to see your time at Oxford made a lasting impression. Now give me my pens back."

"I don't have your pens," the look Owen gave him from beneath platinum blond eyelashes was one he'd given his father, as a teenager, a number of times. _Mutiny_ that look said. _This is mutiny and I'm not sorry for it_.

David was taller, though not by much, and he was older by plenty. He shouldn't have had any difficultly dealing with a recalcitrant inferior in the work place. Especially not one that was acting like a child.

David straightened up knowing it wouldn't do anything, and crossed his arms imposingly knowing that it also wouldn't help him any. The stance made him feel better more than anything.

"Really?"

"Yes sir," if he'd said sir like that in the military David was pretty sure he'd be thrown out. Under the circumstances he wasn't entirely sure what course of action he was supposed to take. David smiled a very not nice smile.

"Then where are they?" he asked through gritted teeth. Owen seemed to consider the question.

"It is possible," the blond said slowly after a long moment, "that they've been distributed one by one to each of the pen holders in the HR department."

David clenched his fist, shut his eyes and held his breath for a long count of ten. He released the breath and then repeated the process, this time counting down from ten in Greek.

"I see how that might be an issue for you sir," Owen sounded mildly amused. "Would you like to borrow one of mine?"

The explosion of emotion that would have followed that statement was cut off by a sharp knock at David's door.

"What?" he snapped. The door opened and Vogel - David flinched - stuck his head in, raising an unamused eyebrow at the pair.

"Ah good. Mr. Renard would like to see you both. Now."

(Line Break)

Renard was having his spry and healthy days which meant he had plenty of spare energy to be mad at David with.

"I'm cleaning house," Renard said in lew of greeting when David and Owen entered the older man's office. Halcyon gave David a look that he might have used on a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. "Though not as thoroughly as I might like."

David was used to the verbal abuse; if it hadn't been forthcoming he might have been concerned, but he hadn't actually seen how Halcyon treated the blond outside of a handful of instances where they'd all been in the same place at once and was a little surprised at how stiffly Owen held himself.

That might have been attributed to do with the way Vogel was giving him a narrow eyed look though from behind the CEO though.

"Harold Dorset's... indiscretion on Friday brought it to my attention that our Human Resources Department has been slacking off," Renard _threw_ a heavy looking stack of folders onto his desk. "Mr. Vogel has checked the numbers and it seems they aren't the only ones. I have more Managers and Supervisors than I need and at least some of them are crap what what I pay them for."

It was a sign of how frustrated he was that Renard had resorted to the mild curse.

"It seems we have a number of redundancies," Vogel leaned forward and placed a sheet of paper on the precarious stack; a list of the supposed redundant positions.

"Xanatos," Halcyon gave him a cool look and David could tell that the man was about to do something unpleasant to him. "In addition to your duties as floor supervisor want you to evaluate the different positions on that list, the people behind the desk and sort out where we can tighten the belt. Do you understand?"

Oh, he understood. Like the Internal Investigations Bureau for the police, David was going to be playing necessary evil for Cyberbiotics. Make everyone nervous, make them fear for their jobs, put them under a microscope and then, like a surgeon, cut out anything uselessly benign or actively malignant.

"Not a problem," David gave the older man a tight smile. "Will I report directly to you?" Halcyon sat, nodding.

"I want this dealt with swiftly and cleanly, Xanatos."

"Of course," it would do him no good to get into another shouting match with the man, certainly not with Vogel and Owen in the room.

"It's a large job," Vogel nodded to his near double. "I've assured Mr. Renard that you will do everything in your power to keep it moving smoothly."

David felt Owen shift beside him and imagined the blond was forcing his hands to remain relaxed and at his sides the same way David was.

"Of course," there was none of the passive aggressive disgust in his tone that the blond had used earlier but he didn't sound terribly pleased either.

It was good to know he wasn't the only one on Owen's shit list.

David picked up the (heavy) stack of files, asked if there was anything else and let himself be rudely dismissed. Owen followed him from the room, hands clenched into fists.

"Fan-" David started to swear in a very creative and wholly inappropriate manner. He stopped himself. "-tastic. I am..." he took a deep breath, reminding himself that though the door was closed, that was no reason to assume Renard was no longer listening. He started down the hall, teeth clenched. "I am just... so... happy."

"It shows," David almost dropped the files. Owen, just as angry as David, had followed him down the hall without making a sound.

"That thing your feeling right now? They have a word for that, you know," David stopped, blocking Owen's path down the hall and gave the younger man a tight smile. " 'Schadenfreude', and I know what you're thinking; it's about damn time I got what was coming to me, right?"

"Really?" David had to remind himself that body-snatchers didn't exist outside of fiction because Owen's expression could only be described as "painfully sarcastic." The blond looked up to the ceiling as though in thought and licked his lips. It was the most _normal_ David had seen out of him in the eight months of knowing him. "As a matter of fact, no. I was just thinking that whoever said misery loves company hadn't considered this particular scenario."

David didn't have the energy to devout to examining the blond's sudden mood swing and decided to just go with the newly vocal (and viciously sarcastic) version of Owen Burnett he'd been dealt with today.

"Puts a rather serious cramp in all those future plans of mine," David kept his tone light. He'd worry about the consequences of what this meant later. "Hard to endear yourself to people when you're the one in charge of culling most of them from the flock."

Owen approached him slowly but that didn't make the motions any easier to follow. His gait was wrong, David realized after a minute. His steps were light and his movement fluid, like a dancer's, rather than the more familiar (and appropriate) solid, firm steps that the blond had used before. It made him look younger than his 22 years while the set of his face suggested someone far older.

David didn't notice that he'd backed up and tried to move away until his back hit the wall.

"A clever man," Owen said softly once they were only separated by the files David was holding - now protectively - in front of him "would find a way to turn this to his advantage."

David swallowed.

"So I'm not a clever man, is that it?" He didn't like the look in the younger man's eyes; suddenly brighter, more cunning than before. Owen raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not the one who said it," and just that fast the stranger in Owen's light framed body was gone. The blond - posture straight, expression serious - dropped something on the stack of files and turned on his heel, squeezing past David and making his way back to his cubicle as though nothing had happened.

After watching the blond for several moments to make sure the return to normal was permanent, David glanced down.

And cursed the blond under his breath in every language David knew because there, on the stack of files, was his favorite pen.

* * *

><p>AN: Owen did not break character at the end, he lost control of his body for a minute. I imagine that it was very disconcerting for him and that he didn't like it at all. As Owen is not a liar I'd say Puck left him the pen so that he could deliver the punchline on the fae's behalf because Puck's kind of a jerk that way. All the bitchiness before that was pure Owen (in his defense David did accuse him of wanting to do the dirty with his pretend-sister. That's something most of us would hold a grudge over.)

Vanillasiren: in answer to your unspoken question yeah, young(er) Davey lacks his usual suave and intelligence.

**Post hoc ergo propter hoc**

= Latin. "After this, therefore because of this" or in common English "Because this happened after that event, that event must have caused this thing to happen." It's faulty logic reasoning and most college professors will pound you thoroughly (er... metaphorically) if you're caught using it.

**Schadenfreude**

= German. "pleasure derived from the misfortunes of others". I wanted a word that meant "disgust at shared misfortune" rather than the Misery Loves Company line but I couldn't find one.


	17. In Which Surprises Aren't Good

A/N: This is _hard_. If you've been paying attention you'll have noticed that I do a lot of one shots and same universe drabbles but this is my only long term, multi-chapter fic. I don't regret it but I just want you lot to appreciate how difficult this is for me. I've got the attention span of a bug and THIS behemoth has been going for three years now. Also I got distracted. That happens quite a lot.

Warning: Language

Spoilers: yes

Disclaimer: Duh.

* * *

><p>Chapter 16: In Which Surprises Aren't Good (Except When They Are)<p>

David watched closely (mostly from around corners and behind strategically placed files) for the rest of the week, but there was no return of 'the body-snatcher wearing Owen's face'. The Asperger's diagnosis was looking a lot less likely these days and making way for Bipolar.

Except Owen didn't display any usual symptoms of that illness either. David caught himself wondering if maybe the Owen that stood straight, said yes sir and worked tirelessly was just a mask someone - his father, if you wanted to play the hypothetical game all the way through - had forced him to wear. Maybe that smooth, sarcastic, _frightening_ thing was the real Owen Burnett beneath.

David thought it through exactly once and decided to never think about it again. In the meantime he procrastinated. He estimated a two week grace period before Renard started demanding results and with Owen... not on his side due to recent events, David was going to have to figure out a way to turn this bad situation into a good one.

The weekend came and went and David didn't exactly have a "Eureka!" moment but he did have a plan.

(Line Break)

"M-my performance?" Daniel Fraine had a nervous disposition and a way with making sure accounts balanced. Renard had two more just like him but what Renard didn't know (or wasn't taking advantage of) was that Daniel Fraine had a way with all numbers. Not just those attached to a bank account.

"I know, I know," David gave the older, balding man a sympathetic grimace and looked down at his papers. "I think it looks like you've been doing brilliantly - Just look how you corrected the problem with the Dunder Mifflin account!" no one had noticed the problem had been there and no one had noticed when it went away so Daniel hadn't been thanked or praised before. Now the shy, pale man turned an mottled red as he fiddled with his hands and muttered under his breath about it all being part of the job. David smiled. "But Mr. Renard..." Daniel met his eyes again and David frowned unhappily, shaking his head "Mr. Renard seems to think that you need to be reviewed. He's doing it to everyone," David's false reassurances were seen right through, as they were meant to be "really it's just a witch hunt. I can promise you, with your record and everything _I've_ seen..."

David pretended to hunt for words, gesturing vaguely with his hands as the other man watched hopefully.

"I promise you will be getting a sparkling review from me. I can't imagine what kind of an idiot would let someone as valuable as you go."

Renard would let Daniel Fraine go because Daniel Fraine didn't stand out as excellent, didn't point out his successes and had a tendency to keep quiet when other people took the credit he was due. Renard was, from what David could tell, not just getting rid of the dangerous employees, but the redundant ones as well and while David knew Daniel was perfect, the other accountants would be getting better reviews because they were louder about their accomplishments.

Oh well. Renard's loss.

(Line Break)

Daniel separated the files Renard had given him into three stacks. There was the stack that contained the information of men and women like Harold Dorset. Malignant, corrupt, bad for business and going to be fired. Next to that sat the file that David liked to call Falsely Accused. People that were nothing special but not particularly dangerous and shouldn't be getting the look over at all. They wouldn't be fired but a handful would probably quit for all the trouble the review would cause them.

Then there was David's special stack. Also falsely accused, these were the HR people, Scientists, Technicians and Office Workers that played second fiddle. The cogs that made the machine work but never got any credit for it. People like Daniel Fraine that would probably be cut but were far more important than Renard and Vogel ever gave them credit for.

David could give them credit. David could heap loads of praise and flattery on each one individually while underwriting their success and down playing their import to Renard.

It was more underhanded and dirty than David had wanted to get but it was a necessary means to get to a necessary end.

David liked to think Owen would like the efficiency but when he found the blond in his office, glancing through the folders in his special stack he wondered if maybe he had gone too far.

"Mr. Burnett," calling Owen by his given name seemed inappropriate when the man was violently opposed to him on every matter, particularly that of Janine. Owen looked up from the file he had open on David's desk and nodded. "Can I do something for you?"

"No sir," Owen gestured to the stacks. "I was just admiring your organization," Owen paused, long fingers dragging down one of David's somewhat disingenuous progress reports. "Very clever."

("A clever man," Owen said softly once they were only separated by the files David was holding - now protectively - in front of him "would find a way to turn this to his advantage.")

David nodded with a very small smile, accepting the reluctant compliment for what it was. If Owen were being honest, and there was no reason to think he wasn't, then perhaps the gap caused by David's faux pax could be bridged and the relationship between the two men improved. The subject of David's cleverness was dropped as Owen turned his attention to other files and proceeded to give David a thorough - metaphorical - dressing down for his treatment of the bad apple files. David's hope slipped away.

Of course he did it with dignity, grace and subtlety so if anyone walked in they wouldn't notice the twenty-two year old scolding his boss.

And his boss taking it. Like a bitch.

David was actually starting to turn red around the ears when someone knocked on the door frame. The men turned to watch Janine slip into the office, shutting the door behind her in move that would do literally nothing to expel the rumors that David had been doing his best to downplay and ignore.

He forgot the concern the moment he took in her appearance. Of course Janine was never _disheveled_ and to suggest such would drive the girl into a rage but the redhead looked distinctly... less put together than usual.

Her hair, which she seemed to keep in place with force of will alone most days, seemed frazzled and fell into her face in a way that - while artful - was clearly not what she'd planned for it.

Her hands moved restlessly, brushing the hair back in place only for it to fall again and smoothing down her button down shirt and the (modest for her) navy skirt in a way that did not dispel the few folds and wrinkles.

"Is something wrong?" David set down the file that Owen had decided could be improved with a dose of David's embarrassment. Janine's eyes were wide and bright as she twisted her fingers together.

"Mother's back."

Beside him, Owen dropped his pen. David's eyes flicked to the blond, watching him bend double to fetch it but he hadn't moved fast enough to hide that brief look of _shock_ and _oh damn_ that had briefly been written across the blond's face.

Curious.

"Is that..." David searched for a delicate way to phrase the obvious question. Janine's fingers fidgeted. "Is that bad?"

"No, of course not," Janine said but the way she turned away and paced was at odds with her words. Owen had recovered and was rearranging the files by first and last initial now.

Productive but unnecessary fidgeting.

David had to wonder what was so interesting about Anastasia Renard that it sent Owen and her own daughter into nervous fits.

"It's wonderful she's back," Janine didn't sound like she really meant the words and was confused by her own response. She paced back to the desk and brushed her hair away again. "I've missed her but..." Janine was wearing a ring on her left forefinger and she pulled and twisted at it in distraction. "It's strange. She goes away for so much time and then comes back and it just..."

The redhead was full of nervous energy. Usually well in control of herself when she wanted to be it was odd to see Janine moving so much with no goal in sight for all the effort.

Owen was his usual still self again and showed no surprise or worry on his face when David looked at him.

"Daddy took her to lunch," Janine continued. Unnecessary information. Useless chatter. David and Janine had not known each other for very long - a little over a year, in fact - but he knew her well enough to see that something was not right. He started paying attention. "I guess we'll have dinner together" she didn't sound off put by the idea. "She's been to Africa this time. I bet she'll have a lot to talk about. I wrote to her, about you," for a moment it looked like she might turn shy but the moment passed. "She'll want to meet you - without Daddy knowing. Of course."

Something happened beside him and David shifted attention. Owen's posture had changed. The calm and stillness was replaced by a hard tensing most noticeable along the blond's shoulders. Something shift, briefly, on Owen's face and was gone before David could categorize it as anything other than not right.

"And she's asked about you Owen," the blond didn't seem particularly surprised.

"Is that so?" Forced disinterest as Owen seemed to turn his attention back to the files. It occurred to David that it was unlike his fox to over take a conversation like this and was even less like Owen not to give her his full attention when she spoke.

"Daddy's been telling her how wonderful you are," no wry twist to her mouth, no playing up the fact that Renard had been unsuccessfully playing matchmaker. She wasn't even teasing David, with her eyes roaming the office as though searching for something and never finding it.

David wanted to ask her what she was doing there, but knew, in the state she was in, she was likely to rattle off the first excuse she could come up with and leave with no real explanation.

"I'm sure she's quite sick of me by now, if that's the case," David, hyper-aware of the other two in his office, caught the off note in Owen's voice immediately. Engaging in the useless chatter, his voice a forced casual. Small talk between two people who should have been well past small talk.

"Don't be silly, Mother adores you," Janine was distracted, still fiddling with her ring. David felt more than heard Owen's shuffle. He caught the blond, jaw tense, flipping through a file. The blue eyes behind the glasses were focused at the pages but they never moved to look at the text.

On the off chance that Owen was still self-aware enough to forcibly remove David's hand from his body should the darker man reach out to pat him on the shoulder to get his attention, David decided to force Janine to focus instead.

Taking the fragile looking hands in his own larger ones, David stopped the movement and Janine's eyes finally turned to his.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he'd hoped to kill two birds with one stone; the overly familiar gesture with Janine should have garnered Owen's ire if nothing else but the blond didn't move from where he was staring at the files.

"What?" Janine blinked and seemed to come back to her self with a soft, pretty laugh. "I'm fine, really. I just get so..." she pressed her painted lips together, searching for a word. "I get so nervous when she comes back. A good kind of nervous," she rushed to explain when she saw David frowning. "Really. I'm excited but... I just seem to have all this energy and nothing to do with it," she pulled out of his grasp. "You'll probably be invited to dinner," she directed over David's shoulder to Owen. The blond nodded faintly.

"Unlikely I'll be able to attend," he even sounded distracted. "But I imagine Mrs. Renard will be here for sometime. Send her my regards."

Janine seemed to take that as her cue to leave and, still a nervous bundle of energy, she kissed David goodbye before slipping out the door.

In her absence the room seemed cool, overly quiet and unnaturally still.

"You and Mrs. Renard have met?" David asked pointlessly in the quiet. Owen didn't look up from the file he was flipping through for the fifth time.

"Yes," he sounded uninterested but there was something...

"Known each other long?" David knew that Anastasia had been around quite a bit more before he'd been hired and wondered if Janine's mother was the influence that had caused Owen to start looking at her daughter as a sister or if she were in the same camp as her husband.

Owen went still at his question and when he finally looked up-

David didn't step back, but after a week of watching and waiting, it was still a shock to see those bright intense eyes and those slightly twisted lips on Owen's face. The stranger that David didn't think of as _his_ Owen Burnett watched him for a long moment.

"Does it matter?" The expression that accompanied the question was overly dramatic for Owen, but not, perhaps, a typical 22 year old. One blond eyebrow came down, the other arching up in question and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

David took a breath.

"No," he almost finished with 'just making small talk' but David didn't want to hear the response. Owen looked back at the file, seemed to gather himself and the blue eyes that met David's the second time were cool and calm.

David relaxed and Owen took his leave.

(Line Break)

Thursday featured more angry employees - angry at Renard for the reviews but taking it out on David as the messenger - than David would have liked and Owen disappeared twice when he really would have prefered to have the blond at hand but David took it in stride and tried, valiantly, not to let the day throw him.

Anastasia Renard needed no introduction, which was good because otherwise David might have been startled by suddenly finding her in his office.

She looked... like Janine probably would in a few years time. Her eyes were a brighter, more startling green, her hair a slightly deeper red but she had the same slim and athletic form. The same painted lips smiled at him and the same delicate white hands opened out to him.

"You must be David," her voice was a purr that he'd heard out of Janine a time or two, but her smile was friendly and open so David didn't put his guard up. He let the older woman, though she didn't look to be as old as she should have been, take his hands and look him up and down. "Janine has told me so much about you. She's quite taken," David caught her eye but Anastasia was still smiling and her tone was light.

"And you must be Mrs. Renard," David returned the light tone and smile.

"Anastasia, please," she let go and stepped back to lean against his desk. "I've been looking forward to meeting you, David."

"And I you," David gestured to the chair across from his own and watched Janine's mother fold herself into it, all grace and poise.

She looked like a queen, despite her simple jewelry and kakhi pants.

"I'll cut to the chase, shall I?" It wasn't much of a question but David nodded anyways. "I hear you work with Owen."

Odd. David had been expecting the motherly rendition of "if you ever hurt my daughter" that he hadn't gotten from Renard since the old man was still pretending Janine and David were having nothing to do with each other.

"We're colleagues," he would have liked to say friends but lying to her seemed a bad idea. Anastasia nodded as if she understood his meaning.

"I'm throwing him a birthday party on sunday," she really did cut to the chase, didn't she? David blinked. He hadn't realized the blond's birthday was so near - to be fair, he hadn't known the date at all - but he did note that she had said she was throwing him a party, not that sunday was the significant date. "You know he doesn't have any family here," Anastasia continued casually. "He wouldn't like an office party and I worry that dinner at our house..." she smiled and spread her hands. "Would send the wrong sort of message to my husband."

That answered that question very neatly. Anastasia was not pressing for Owen to date her daughter but felt obligated to throw the blond a party since apparently no one else would.

He wondered if Owen's brotherly affection for Janine had bled into Anastasia or if her motherly affection for him had been the decider.

It didn't really matter.

"Janine of course wanted to throw a huge lavish party and invite all her single friends but..." the older woman smiled. "She did tell me how your little double date ended."

Anastasia was more aware of what had gone on in her absence than David had expected. He gave her a self-depreciating smile.

"It wasn't one of my finer moments, I admit," Anastasia's following laugh was huskier but of the same soft, pretty sort that Janine used to impress. "Something small then. Close friends?"

"And colleagues," Anastasia's smile showed teeth, but David didn't feel the danger until much, much later, after he was already home and remembering the talk. "I'd rent a place or suggest a restaurant but..." the frown did nothing to mar her lovely features. "It seems sterile and distant. I was hoping we could borrow your apartment, to keep things friendly. Comfortable."

Janine had gotten a lot of her little tricks from her mother, it seemed, because the accompanying pout - soft, with accompanying doe eyes - was one Janine used often enough.

"I'm not sure how comfortable Owen would find it," David evaded. He wasn't opposed to the idea, exactly, other than worrying that Owen would be made unhappy and steal all the pens from his apartment as well. He honestly didn't think his own apartment was a good place to take Owen for a comfortable evening but he didn't want to say no to this woman.

It just seemed like a very bad idea somehow.

"It'll be fine," she brushed away the concern with a regale wave and smiled. "Leave it all to me. I can work magic."

(Line Break)

David didn't see Anastasia the following day, but Janine showed up, her nervous energy tightly reigned in but visible in the brightness of her eyes and the briskness of her movement, to collect a spare key from David.

"Don't worry," she soothed and David marveled at how similar her voice was to her mother's. "We won't do anything outrageous. It would only scare him anyways."

David focused on writing up reports on people that didn't really deserve it and pretending that Owen's prolonged absences were easily explained and not the least bit unusual.

Friday came and Owen was, oddly, present for the whole thing.

Sitting across from David in the office, the blond leaned over the desk, his pen moving frantically across paper. David wasn't sure how Owen kept his script so elegant, never mind legible, when he wrote so quickly. Had David tried to write at that speed he imagined he'd have just left a massive smear across the page.

"A good number of Renard's employees are disgruntled about the performance reviews," David was commenting when his door opened. He glanced up to see Janine grin at him and shut the door before he continued. "Several have threatened to quit."

"I sincerely doubt any will," Owen's voice was all his own and mild. The nervous distraction caused by Anastasia's arrival all but forgotten. Janine approached the desk, a different nervous energy coming off her in waves. When he looked, Janine shot David a dazzling smile, so he decided not to be concerned until after he and Owen had gotten through their coded conversation. "Most won't leave of their own accord if only because working for Mr. Renard offers a certain amount of prestige in this business."

David had trouble talking and writing at the same time when he was talking ABOUT what he was writing. Owen didn't slow and the pen never slipped.

"But," the word was slowly drawn out in a way that David knew meant was meant to get his attention. Like all of Owen's other 'help' David was going to have to work out a lot of it by himself, but Owen would give him the first step. "If quite dissatisfied, they may look to accept other offers in their field from a similar, equally lucrative company."

David wondered if the reason Vogel was inclined to look like he smelled something foul whenever Owen was in the same room was because the other man realized just how underhanded and dirty Owen was willing to play.

Janine got bored with their talking and broke in.

"I'm going to be an actress," the redhead blurted out while David was still considering just how long it would take to be established enough, on his own, to offer Renard's bored and angry employees a better offer. The darker man blinked and Owen looked up from his paper.

"It's a small part," Janine continued, almost bouncing in place. David considered how she only ever seemed her age when she was excited. "And for a tv movie," she made a face and David couldn't help but laugh. "But it's a start, right?"

"You'll be a star in no time, Fox" David reassured her. Janine grinned at him.

"Daddy thinks I'm taking extra classes to explain away the long hours. I just can't tell him between the uh... subject matter and my part," David saw something shift in Owen's expression, not unnaturally or alarmingly, but he developed the sort of wry look that he'd come to expect when Owen was about to say something to Janine that he knew David wasn't going to like.

"Honte à vous, mentir à ton père comme ça," the blond's tone was about as teasing as Owen was capable of without suddenly becoming the stranger. Janine didn't see anything odd in his behavior either, laughing haughtily.

"Je vais etre aussi mauvais que je veux etre," the redhead shot back. Owen shook his head, face returning to it's usual neutral expression and went back to writing.

David cleared his throat pointedly and and raised an eyebrow. Janine shook her head at his unasked question and sighed.

"Honestly David, you've really got to brush up on your French."

"What about your mother, does she know?" David caught the brief tensing of Owen's shoulders out of the corner of his eyes but Janine distracted him with an awkward shuffle of her own.

"Actually..." she hesitated and then grinned. "It was her idea," David and Owen both blinked at her. "She knows I've always wanted... and then she heard about the opening and told me when to go to the auditions. She's even helping me cover with Daddy."

Owen muttered something that started with "Anastasia" and ended with "surprised" and sounded a whole lot like grumbling as though he disapproved. Which seemed odd, for him.

(Line Break)

David got out of bed at 7am on a sunday morning, wearing only a pair of sweat pants, to answer his door and never once stoped to wonder why someone would be knocking rather than buzzing the intercom.

"Morning David," grinned Janine when the door was opened. This alone would not have been cause for alarm though it was the first time she'd shown up unannounced. Considering their year 'not' together, David had been expecting a surprise visit for sometime.

What was concerning, though, was the slightly taller, slightly older mirror image of Janine standing right beside her.

David turned bright red.

"Well," Anastasia's smile was teasing. "I hope we weren't interrupting your beauty sleep."

David could just imagine what he looked like to her.

Bare chested, sweat pants worn soft and frayed by frequent use (they were clean, thank God), unbound hair undoubtedly frazzled and hanging about his shoulders, his eyes gummed up with sleep.

This was the man her daughter was interested in and he wasn't even fully awake enough, at 7am, to form coherent sentences in response to the unexpected visit.

Janine didn't tolerate delays or other people's discomfort with anything approaching grace and so shoved a box into David's chest and pushed past him into the apartment without bothering to check if he'd successfully caught it.

Anastasia waited until David stepped out of the doorway before walking in with her own box of... things.

At least the apartment was tidy. Tidy in a way that suggested a maid service and a bachelor that was rarely home, but it wasn't a total embarrassment, at least.

"Charming," Anastasia said in the mocking tone that David most associated with Owen. The dark man blinked stupidly, looked down at the box in his arms and kicked the door shut with a little too much force.

"What happened to nothing outrageous?" he shot at Janine when he'd recovered enough to walk to his kitchen counter where she was turning on his coffee maker. He wanted to be thankful but he strongly suspected that she was making just enough for her mother and herself to have a mug each.

"This isn't," Janine defended without actually turning her attention away from the task. David may have snorted.

"Compared to what she wanted to do?" Anastasia set her box down on the counter and pulled out a medium sized cake. "This is down right understated."

"We're just having dinner," Janine finally left the coffee maker to do its thing and made David put down her box. "I'll cook and-"

"You're making dinner?" David asked with a raised eyebrow. Janine glared at him from half-lidded eyes.

"Yes," she said shortly. "I am making dinner. For goodness sake David, go put some clothes on."

He was half-way to the hall when Anastasia caught him by the arm.

"You might think about digging out a few take out menus while your at it," the older woman suggested as her daughter banged around what few pots David owned.

"Chinese is on speed dial."

(Line Break)

Janine's cooking wasn't as bad as David had first expected.

Nothing actually burst into flame.

"Dear, the chicken isn't done I don't think," Anastasia was hovering but it seemed neither of the Renard women had any practical cooking experience and so the mother's suggestions were vague and not usually very helpful.

"But it's all brown on the outside," Janine protested which, fair enough, was true. David trimmed one burnt end off of the chicken breast to reveal raw flesh beneath. "But it _must_ be done by now!" she protested.

David briefly played with the idea of sending her to finish redecorating his living room and doing the food himself but as David had even less knowledge of how a kitchen was supposed to work (the majority of his meals coming ready made from restaurants and stores, supplemented with the occasional piece of fruit from the mostly decorational bowl on his coffee table) he decided to join Anastasia in offering mostly useless tips and bits of information.

It wasn't as though Janine were totally hopeless after all. She'd dropped raw broccoli in a pot of boiling water for a few minutes and then pulled the brilliant green stalks back out and dunked them into a bowl of ice water, apparently so that they wouldn't turn the sickly greenish brown color David usually associated with the vegetable. Before serving she planned on covering them in a hot, thick sauce of some kind that had proven, after David and Anastasia had taste-tested, to be quite delicious.

There was just the matter of the chicken...

"Maybe if we put it in the microwave-"

"It'll come out like rubber," Anastasia interrupted. "In the oven on low heat maybe?"

"But won't it get dry?" Janine bit her lip and frowned at the chicken. "I'm sure the woman on tv said it only needed a little time on the stove."

"Owen's supposed to be here soon," David reminded her pointedly. After Janine and her mother had thrown some homey type objects (throw pillows, a rug, an afghan for his couch and chairs) around his living room, Janine had assured David that they had time to run and get a bottle of wine - which she'd forgotten - and chat before dinner needed to be started.

That had been sometime ago and, convinced of her cooking prowess after the success of the broccoli, she'd put off doing the rest and told David to find some excuse for the blond to arrive around four.

Owen, under the false impression that David was having some trouble with his performance write-ups, was already on his way.

"Shouldn't you have started the potatoes by now?" Anastasia asked suddenly. The older Renard woman didn't seem so much concerned as she did mildly curious, but her question set her daughter to swearing like a sailor anyways.

And then the buzzer rang.

"I said four," Janine snapped, fumbling a handful of small red potatoes.

"And I said that we should have finished dinner before calling," Anastasia pointed out mildly.

"And I told you both that we should have ordered chinese half an hour ago," David was already walking to the door and so neither woman could actually hurl anything at him for risk of mess or collateral damage. David pressed the intercom button and said, with a great deal of enthusiasm "hello?"

"You have need of me sir?" It was hard to tell over the random static of the intercom but Owen's tone sounded very dry and mocking. David pretended it was just the ambient noise.

"That's right, come on up," he buzzed the door and took his finger off the intercom button before Owen could hear Janine for him to stall. "Well my dear, time to work your magic."

"Thanks for that," Janine visibly slumped while Anastasia straightened her throw pillows. They had the space of time it would take a briskly walking man of about 5'8 to walk to the elevators in David's building, take the long ride up and walk from the elevator to David's apartment before Owen would be knocking at the door.

So not quite enough time for Janine to do more than swear and shake a spatula at the stove. David opened the door promptly and with better grace than he had earlier (it helped that he was now carefully dressed and groomed) greeter the young man in the hall.

Owen looked peevish, which wasn't a good start, with several folders held loosely under his arm.

"Owen!" David said nice and loudly. In side the apartment things became still and quiet. "Come on in."

Without giving the younger man a chance to brace himself for it, David caught the arm not cradling the precious, confidential files and pulled Owen into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him so that when the blond saw what was going on he wouldn't be able to bolt easily.

Fully inside the apartment, Owen became still, his eyes roving around the room, stopping on Anastasia and her bright smile for a long moment before shifting to Janine in the kitchen with flour smeared across her cheek (in hindsight, David would always wonder where that flour had come from since she'd not been cooking with any and David was fairly certain that there wasn't any in his apartment).

"Ah," the blond said with a sort of resigned sigh.

"Happy Birthday Owen," Anastasia walked forward, a playful smile on her lips and her arms open wide for a hug. David felt Owen lean back and decided that the blond's dislike of physical contact extended as far as his adopted family.

"Thank you," Owen was awkward and stiff under the motherly affection, arms held at his sides, still holding the files David had pretended to ask for.

"I'm making dinner," Janine had said brightly once her mother released the blond. Owen looked at her for a long moment, took in the state of the kitchen and her floured face, and looked in askance at Anastasia.

"She's trying," the older woman said quietly with a shrug. With another resigned sigh, Owen shoved his folders into David's chest and, much like Janine had some hours before, walked away without waiting for David to catch them.

"Chicken," Janine gestured at what she'd managed. "Well, it's supposed to be, but I'm sure- hey!" Owen had deftly rolled up his sleeves and pushed Janine away from the stove with a bump of his hip. "I'm doing quite well on my own, thanks," the redhead huffed as Owen washed his hands. "Wasn't I?" her eyes sought out her mother and David, neither of whom wanted to have to answer that question.

"I'm sure you were," Owen agreed mildly, though for him it was practically a soothing gesture. He blinked down at Janine's beautiful broccoli and raw sliced potatoes for a moment. "I just thought you'd like some help."

Janine needed more than 'some' help but was too proud to ask for it. Not that Anastasia or David would have been any good in the kitchen anyways. Janine pursed her lips for a moment, watching Owen drop her small, halved potatoes into the still warm broccoli water.

"I suppose a little assistance wouldn't go amiss," she hedged. Owen made a noise that, coming from anyone else, would have been an amused snort and got to work.

And they were all immensely happy for it.

"Oh my God," Janine was moaning over a taste of... something. David had tried to be helpful once Owen had successfully requisitioned the kitchen but had gotten banned for his trouble and wasn't allowed to taste anything at all.

Owen, showing no visible sign of all the activity he'd just been involved in over the stove, raised an eyebrow silently at her.

To David it had looked the way he imagined a sorcerer at a cauldron would; all movement and precision and completely, utterly beyond his own comprehension.

The end result was the broccoli that Janine had successfully produced on her own with the sauce she'd prepared though David believed he had seen Owen splash some wine in it while it had warmed on the stove, chicken sliced thick and cooked through with something, not Janine's sauce, on top and fried potatoes.

It wasn't the most impressive meal David had ever been served but it did smell delicious and before the blond had gently prodded and nudged Janine out of his way David never would have guessed that Owen would have the skill or would bother to use it even if he had.

"It is deliciously unfair that you cook better than I do," Janine complained as she helped Owen move food to the few decorative serving plates David owned. Owen snorted. "I'm a girl, I should know these things for when I have to cook for my husband."

Without knowing why David turned bright red at that and fidgeted when Owen's glance happened to stray in his direction.

"Well," Owen set the dish he was holding down with far more care than was strictly necessary. "You have time to learn," Janine sighed at that. "And if worst comes to worst, you can hire a cook."

"Or I could just keep you around," Janine leaned her hip against the counter, expression playful while Owen raised his eyebrows at her.

It wasn't wholly unlike how Owen had been at the restaurant. Still quiet, still calm and still almost completely motionless if he weren't engaged in a task but also more open than not.

David thought of that scary thing Owen sometimes became, apparently without warning, and decided that no, that wasn't the real Owen hidden by a mask of stillness and calm. This was.

"So what do you charge?" Janine was asking. David glanced at Owen as he and Anastasia moved the serving dishes to the modest, decorative table David had bought on a whim some months before. Owen's smile was wry and teasing.

"By the hour or the meal?" he asked in return. Janine paused and he walked around her to the table. "You couldn't afford me."

(Line Break)

The evening was a subdued one, for a birthday party. But there were only four of them and the man of the hour wasn't exactly one for noise and festivities. The food was eaten (and moaned over loudly, not just by Janine), candles blown out and cake passed around.

David noticed Owen barely picking at his plate and made a note. The cake as delicious and moist and the frosting quite tasty so the blond likely didn't have much of a sweet tooth. It was good to know.

Eventually it became too late and too subdued for there to be any excuse to make Owen stay. The blond had pointedly ignored the bottle of wine the rest of the group had partaken of and was therefore relegated to "driving the women folk home" duty.

"I know you probably didn't want-" Janine started shyly, the way she did whenever she and David had managed to talk Owen into something the blond otherwise would not have done. Owen cut her off with a noisy sigh.

"Ne vous excusez pas pour quelque chose que vous ne referai," the blond said shortly. Whatever it was made Janine turn red and Anastasia laugh out loud. David felt, not for the first time, very left out of an important conversation.

"Well," Janine recovered, smoothing down her clothes. "I think it's time we went home. Good night David," she stood on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek for longer than could only be considered friendly.

Anastasia hugged him, Owen nodded vaguely in his direction and together they ushered Janine out the door. It was only then that David realized he'd been left with the clean up.

"Great..." with a tired sigh, David decided to put the cleaning up off for another time and to turn in early.

It was only as he passed his living room that he saw the files Owen had brought and sitting on top a white print out.

David paused, picking up the sheet with some caution and giving it a quick look. An apartment for rent in Manhattan. David had no use for such a thing but as he started to set the sheet down he reconsidered.

Owen didn't "forget" things. If the sheet was on David's coffee table then it had been brought and left deliberately.

The dark man set it down more slowly and resolved to make the trip to view the apartment another evening after work and see just what Owen was on about.

* * *

><p>AN: You honestly haven't the vaguest idea how hard it was to make myself come back to this. I had a funny idea for a series of Lex and Owen (not to be confused with Lex/Owen, because no) drabbles which I PUSHED AWAY because I knew there'd be mutiny if this didn't get updated.

You may have noticed that everything is about Owen all of the time in this story. 1) he's the main character, despite David's POV. 2) I don't know how people came away from watching the series thinking anything other than "That blond guy is the best thing since chocolate. Everything should be about him all the time". 3) If you watch the series carefully you'll note that without Owen's involvement, a good 65% of it couldn't have happened. So I feel justified in making everything about him all of the time.

For the purposes of this chapter I like to think that Titania always knew that Puck was wearing an Owen suit and, during this time, thought it'd be funny to play tricks on the trickster.


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